In The Light
by LadyEmmy
Summary: Third in the WinchesterCallum series after of Wolf and Man.When the Callum girls go home for thier little sisters wedding, something goes terribly wrong and Kit needs Sam and Dean's help or she's going to lose her sister.Disclaimer: Dean, Sam and John Wi


Prologue:

The house loomed in the gloomy light of a slivered moon, forbidding shadows crossing the facade. The windows were empty, streaked with dirt and lifeless as they had been for the last fifteen years. A realtor's "For Sale" sign hung from one rusted hook on its cross post and creaked as the gentle summer breeze caused it to swing.

The young woman shuddered as she looked at the house from the end of the driveway. During the day, the place filled her with a sense of unease, but at night it was frightening. She tried to push down the queasiness in her stomach, suppressed a shudder. Maybe she should come back during the day, when it wasn't so... creepy. Dismissing the thought, she forced herself to take the first few steps.

The owners abandoned the house years before, but the lawn and trees were still well kept. Perhaps the realtor, in hopes of finally unloading the albatross of a house, had kept up the lawn services.

She glanced around to make sure she could not be seen from the road and pulled a crow bar from her bag. Working the end into the doorframe by the lock, she wrestled the bar back and forth as quietly as possible until the lock gave way with a pop and the door swung open. She barely caught herself from falling into the house.

The house smelled old and musty, which wasn't surprising since no one had been in it for years, at least not according to what the realtor had told her when she called earlier today. The agent had said it was because the owners refused to lower their absurdly high asking price, so it had stayed on the market. But she knew the real reason.

She had looked into the recent history of the house and had decided that it was perfect. Now as she stood inside what might have once been a lovely foyer, she shuddered. It was still the perfect house for what she wanted, but that didn't stop it from sending a chill down her spine.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself into the house, determined to get this over with a soon as possible. She flashed the light around the foyer and up the stairs. According to her research, the room she wanted would be up there.

Making her way up the rickety stairs, she frowned and picked her way down the hall. The dust in the house was going to wreak havoc with her allergies, but it might be worth it. If it worked.

Finding the bedroom that she was looking for, she pushed open the door, cringing as the hinges protested with a squeal. She stifled a sneeze and continued into the center of the room.

Pulling a face, she knelt on the dusty floor and pulled the bag over her head. Flipping it open, she flashed the light over the page she had brought with her. She read it over quickly and then pulled the other items from her bag. "This had better work," she muttered to herself, doubtfully.

She had never put too much stock in the whole Occult thing, but certain members of her family believed and that may be enough.

She set the black candles and candleholders off to one side, using the flashlight to scan over her page again. With a nod, she set them to one side and stood. Picking up the chalk, she bent over and drew a large circle around her. She then drew an inverted star in the center of it.

At each of the points of the star, she placed a single candle in a holder. Safely outside the circle, she picked up her page and began to read. "_EGO dico ut thee, phasmatis ut habito hic, exorior iam, addo jurgium quod vereor_."

Repeating the verse and lit the candle at her feet until all five candles flickered against the gloom. She stood back and watched them burn for a moment, then gathered up the bag and the papers. The candles were left to burn out on their own, per the instructions.

Outside, she walked quietly to her compact car she'd left parked up the street and got in. She threw her bag on the passenger seat, started the engine and quickly pulled away from the curb, not looking back at the house.

If she had, she might have seen the shadow that crossed the window in the faint light of the candles.

The young woman pushed a strand of blond hair out of her face as she parked the car into the circular driveway. Climbing out of the car, she grabbed her bag and walked up the front stairs into the large, grey stone house.

"Oh, Angela thank goodness you're home. Where have you been?"

"Just out running an errand," she replied calmly.

"I got a call from your sisters. They were detained somewhere, but will be home in a few days."

"They're coming?" Angela Callum stopped and looked at her mother.

"Of course they are, Dear. I told you they would," Victoria kissed her youngest daughter's cheek and then went into the kitchen.

Angela stood in the foyer and wondered if she should go clean up the candles she had left behind, then decided against it. If anyone ever went into the house, they'd just think that it was just some silly teenage prank. It's not like what she did tonight was going to do anything anyway.

**_Chapter One_**

Interstate 90, Alabama

Flash

He was standing outside a strange house. A "For Sale" sign swayed in the breeze. He shivered as he had the briefest glimpse of a pale-faced girl staring out the window at him.

Flash

He stood next to the grave, his head bowed. The name on the grave burned into him; Evangeline Margurite Danielle Callum. Beside him he could hear someone crying softly and turned his head to see Kit next to him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she dropped a bunch of roses on the coffin in the open grave. A vicious curse from his other side drew his attention. Dean was there, his hands clenched at his sides, his jaw tight, eyes cold and angry. Dean threw his head back and screamed.

Sam jerked awake to sound of AC/DC blaring out of the Impala's tape deck. He rubbed his temple and glanced at his brother staring stone faced out of the windshield.

"It's about time you woke up," Dean muttered, reaching over to turn the music down slightly. Sam's head was pounding. And it wasn't just from the music. The dream stayed with him, tugging at him. It wasn't the first time he'd had it, but it had become more and more frequent. He'd been able to brush them off before, but this time it felt different. This time, it felt real.

"Vision?" Dean asked. He glanced at his little brother, noticing his pale face for the first time. "Dude? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam reached over and turned the music down a little more. "I don't know if it was a dream or a vision."

"What was it about?"

Sam scrubbed his hand over his face. "Nothing," he shook his head. "Don't worry about it. It was probably just a dream."

He didn't want to keep things from his brother, but in the three weeks since they left Louisiana, he'd been uncommunicative. If he admitted what had woken him up, Dean would just be more pissed off than usual. That was bad - when Dean was pissed, the volume of the stereo went up, as if it could somehow overwhelm and drown out his frustrations.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, looking out into the darkness that surrounded them as they tore down the highway.

"Outside of Tuscaloosa," Dean told him.

Sam looked at his brother and frowned. It was taking them too long to get to New York. With a sigh, he dug in his jacket pocket for his phone and turned it on. Immediately, he got the notice that he had an email waiting. He was glad that the darkness hid his emerging smile. Tapping the screen with the stylus, he opened the email from Kit.

_Hey, it's me. We're somewhere near Oklahoma City. Evan's been a pain in my ass ever since we left. If she wasn't my sister, I swear I'd tell her to drop me at the next town big enough to have a Greyhound station and I'll get home on my own. She won't say anything about what happened with her and Dean. She just turns the music up and tells me to shut up and see if there's anything to kill on our way home. Yeah - we're headed back to CA. Remember Angela, our baby sister? She's getting married in a few weeks and Mom and Dad are having kittens about us needing to be home. Guess Princess Angie has turned into Bridezilla on them about it._

_I wish things hadn't gone the way they had. Dean looked pissed, Evan's going to ruin all her dental work if she doesn't stop grinding her teeth and I... I kind of miss you. I hate feeling stuck in the middle like this. Please tell me you're just as miserable as I am right now so I don't feel like a complete idiot._

Sam smiled as he read the email. He cut a look over at his brother, but Dean was staring out of the windshield again. When he came to the last paragraph, he stifled a sigh.

Tapping on the screen, he started his reply. He felt a little better when he hit the send button and shut off the phone. "You want me to drive?" he asked his brother, but Dean grunted and turned up the music. Sam sighed and then reached over the back seat to dig into his bag to find the aspirin. It was going to be a very long night.

Kit stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes. She was enjoying the peace and quiet for a few moments while Evan went to the local diner for some take out. For the past three weeks, she had been subjected to Evan's "Anger Management" music - namely AC/DC, Metallica and MeatLoaf. If she had to listen to any more, she was going to go insane.

She opened one eye and looked around for her computer, sitting up to grab it. While it powered up, she turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. It had been so long since she had watched television that she had no idea what was even on these days.

Bored, she turned the TV off and went back to the computer. She disconnected the phone and plugged the jack into the side of her computer, tapping her fingers while the modem connected. She went into her email and waded through it, searching for one familiar address. When she found it, she smiled and tapped the touch pad on the laptop, opening up the email.

_Hey Kit,_

_How many Callum girls are there? I don't think the world's big enough for more than three. Dean's being Dean - meaning my head is about to explode if I have to listen to the greatest hits of mullet rock much longer. He never talks about anything, so I have no idea what happened with them either. You think they got into an argument? Doesn't matter, I guess. They'll figure it out on their own. He's driving; I think we're in Alabama. I wish you were coming with us to New York. You think it's some coincidence that they're both heading as far in opposite directions as they can get and still be in the same country? _

_I kind of miss you too. Don't get me wrong, Dean's my brother, but it was good to have someone else around for a while that I didn't have to lie to about what we do, someone who wasn't freaked by it. And you're not an idiot - this is pretty miserable._

Kit smiled as she read the email. She felt a stab of relief that she wasn't the only one feeling the way she did right now. She had been almost afraid to say anything to Sam, unsure what his response would be. Now she was glad she had. Despite what had happened between Dean and her sister, she knew she still had someone to talk to in Sam.

Which was a blessing as she wasn't able to talk to Evan right now. Ever since they had left Louisiana, her sister had not exactly been a ray of sunshine. She had been grouchier than normal and refused to talk about what had happened. She knew that Evan was hurting about something, but couldn't get her to open up. After spending almost every day of the past five years together and talking about everything under the sun, Kit felt cut off. And it stung.

Evan came back then, dropping the bag of take out on the bedside table. She shrugged out of her jacket and sat on the edge of the bed to kick off her boots.

"Did you find anything for us?" she asked as she took the bag and began pulling out the contents.

"I think so. There's a small church here in town that is rumored to be haunted."

"Good, we'll check it out first thing in the morning. Take care of the problem and then be back on the road. Eat your dinner before it gets cold and then we'll get to bed. Get an early start," Evan said, her tone going back to the one that had begun grating on Kit's nerves weeks before.

Snapping the computer shut she set it on the bed beside her. "You know, that's it. I've had it," Kit said sharply as she rose from the bed.

"What?" Evan looked at her, swallowing the french fry she had been chewing.

"I don't know what the hell happened with Dean, but you're not taking it out on me anymore."

"I'm not taking anything out on you," Evan retorted.

"Bullshit. You've been a bitch ever since we left Louisiana. And it's going to stop."

Evan set down her drink and rose from the bed to look at her sister. "I have not been a bitch."

Kit glared at Evan, her hands on her hips. "You've been barking orders at me for the past few weeks. I'm twenty-three, Evan. I've been doing this with you for a while, I know what I'm doing."

"I was just saying…" Evan began.

Kit, however, had built up a head of steam and kept on. "I've had enough of it Evan. If you want to be pissed off, be pissed off with yourself. It was your idea not to go with them, not mine," Kit said.

The flash in Evan's eyes should have been a warning sign.

_**Chapter Two**_

_Hey Sam,_

_We stopped in Santa Fe to deal with some nasty spooks in a local church. Afterward, the priest offered to help me find a shelter to get away from Evan, which was kind of cool considering he was a hardcore Catholic padre and he thought Evan and I were, you know, together. We got into it when we hit town. I knew it was coming, has been ever since we left you guys in LA. We both said a few things and, I forgot about Evan's left hook. Maybe I shouldn't have reminded her that it was her idea to leave? LOL - ow. It's been two days and I've still got a shiner. Hoping it fades before we get home or Mom will shit kittens._

_I forgot how much I missed your voice until you called yesterday. How did we luck out that they both took off at the same time? I have to turn my phone off till we stop again for the night. I think I left my car charger somewhere and my battery's low. But - VM me if you want. BTW - there's just three Callum sisters. Haven't seen Angie since I left school to go hunt with Evan. She's more Mom and Dad's speed on this stuff. But you know how family is_.

Sam stared at the screen on his phone in surprise. He couldn't help but laugh as he re-read the email from Kit. He couldn't believe that Evan had punched out her own sister. Then again, the night Dean had shown up at his and Jess's apartment, they had gotten into a fistfight themselves. Of course he had thought that Dean was a burglar, but still.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked him as he joined Sam at the picnic table. He down on the seat and sipped at his coffee. Pale morning light filtered through the thick cover of clouds. It was going to rain. They both felt the dampness in the air.

"Just an email that I got," he shook his head negligently. "Nothing important."

"Huh," Dean dismissed it easily and then looked out over the highway. "Looks like the traffic is picking up. Time to head out. We should hit Richmond by evening."

"Sure, just give me a minute to answer this," Sam said, sending his brother a look when Dean frowned. "I'll just be a minute."

Dean shook his head and walked over to the Impala and climbed in. He looked at the map and frowned. It had been three weeks since they had gotten the coordinates from their father, but they had been stopping along the way to hunt. He'd felt driven to hunt more lately, but the frequent stops were slowing them down; they should have been in New York by now.

Shifting in his seat, he muttered as something stuck him in the back. Reaching behind him, he unclipped the sheath from the inside of his belt and looked at the familiar serpentine dagger. With a low growl, he opened the glove compartment and threw it inside, slamming it shut.

Sam sat at the picnic table and smiled as he tapped the stylus over the screen and sent the email. He stopped and re-read the email again and his smile grew. It had been good to hear Kit's voice again. He only wished that it had been for a little longer. They had been having a really… nice… conversation.

"C'mon, Sammy lets go!" Dean yelled impatiently from the car, punctuating it with a shot from the horn.

Sam sighed and got up from the picnic table and went over to the car. He braced himself as he got in for the blaring of Dean's Mullet Rock Hit Parade. He swore that as soon as he got a chance to drive, he was going to torture his brother with National Public Radio: All talk, all the time.

_Evan punched you out? I thought only guys got into fights like that - shows what I know. How's your eye now? Why didn't you say anything on the phone? We did get lucky, but we needed money, so Dean went over to the bar to find a game. I'm sorry I had to hang up so suddenly, he came back sooner than I thought he would. Not that I'm trying to hide this from him, but you know. I did call when I got your email. Left you a message but I thought you might get this sooner if you stopped somewhere you could get your computer out. And I do know how family is. Be careful, Kit. Call if you need anything. We'll deal with Dean and Evan and their issues later if we have to._

Kit smiled as she read over Sam's email. They had been forced to stop in Flagstaff and it was the first chance she'd had to check her mail recently. She and Evan had been on the road for a few days, Evan doing most of the driving since Kit's eye had been swollen shut.

She had gotten Sam's voice mail and it left her craving the sound of his voice again. Evan had found an ad for a waitress job at a local diner, so Kit had pushed her out of the motel room to take it. Sadly, her plan hadn't worked out - the phone wouldn't get enough of a signal to dial out.

Kit had sat and stewed while Evan was out. She knew that she could help raise the money they needed, but when Evan was being this stubborn, Kit figured it was safer to back off. She didn't need another black eye. Safer to leave Evan alone about Louisiana and hope the bruise went away before their mother saw it.

"Hey Sis," Evan said as she walked into the motel room, kicking the door shut behind her. She set the bags down on the table and then shrugged out of her jacket. When she turned around, she found Kit staring at her.

"Good God Evan, what the hell are you wearing? I thought you were working at a diner," Kit said, jaw open in amazement. The jeans Evan wore could have been painted on, they were so tight. The knees were gone, waistband ripped off and frayed. Huge rhinestones and big multicolored buttons with various slogans and innuendo printed on them were pinned to the legs and ass. Her white T-shirt, with the diner's name in blaring purple print across the front, had been cropped just low enough under her breasts to keep them covered, provided Evan didn't have to reach for anything, or you know, move.

"Diner my ass," Evan said. "It was a meat market. Worse than that dive in New Orleans."

"And that's what they wanted you to wear?" Kit looked at her sister appalled.

"It's the uniform," Evan said as she sat down on the bed carefully so as to not get stuck in the ass by any of the buttons and flopped back tiredly. "The guys in the kitchen took pity and sent some burgers and fries back with me."

"You know we could just call Mom and Dad and ask them for the money," Kit said.

"No," Evan answered flatly. "You remember what they said when you left, 'Don't expect any money from us.'" Evan mimicked.

"Sis, that was years ago. They may be able to help," Kit told her sister softly.

Evan sat up and looked at her sister. Her gaze fell on the bruise around Kit's eye. It was fading into various shades of green and yellow, but it still looked nasty and tender, enough to rouse Evan's guilt once again. "No. Look, we just have one more night here. The car will be fixed the day after tomorrow," Evan paused to quickly count the money she had tucked into her bag. Three hundred dollars. Not too bad. "And if I make as many tips tomorrow night as I did tonight, we'll be set until we get home. If we're careful with it."

"If you say so," Kit said, then turned back to her computer.

"Did you find anything for us here?" Evan asked as she rose from the bed, ignoring the look her sister sent her as the buttons and baubles on her jeans tinkled when she walked. She brought the two bags and the tray with the drinks over to the beds and dropped one beside Kit. She sat down and opened the bag, pulling out some of the fries and tearing into them.

"Nope. I thought I might have found some vamps, but it's just some local Goth wannabes in an RPG," Kit replied.

"Well that's no fun," Evan said, taking a drink.

Kit shook her head and went back to her email, clicking "SEND" before Evan could see to whom it was addressed. It's not like Kit was hiding it from her sister, but she didn't want to upset Evan. She'd been a raging bitch every waking hour since they left, but more than once Kit had woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of Evan muffling her tears into her pillow.

Shutting down the computer, Kit dug into the burger and fries. As they ate, they chattered about nothing of importance until Evan pled exhaustion and rose for a shower before bed. She'd lain in her bed, waiting quietly for Kit to be asleep before she got back up.

She dressed quietly in the dark, tucking her daggers in her boots and her back pockets, then crept out of the room.

Walking quickly down the street to the old cemetery she had seen on her way back from the diner, Evan hopped over the stone retaining wall and strolled causally through the gravestones. She found a fresh grave and sat down on the ground under a tree nearby and waited. When she heard a soft sound behind her, she turned and looked to find something clawing its way out of the grave. A small smile curved her lips. "Oh good. Time to have some fun," she said softly to herself and reached for the dagger in her boot.

_I just got your VM - stupid reception out here bites. Flagstaff sucked. Trucker lost a tread in front of us and we blew two tires. Ended up stuck here for a few days while we got up enough money to pay for all four to be replaced. Why all four I have no idea, but Evan insisted that her "baby" had to have matching tires. So far we haven't run into anything we couldn't handle, but it's good to know that we can count on someone if we need to. If I need to call for that, I will. Speaking of calls, page me next time Dean takes off for one of his long showers - it's my turn to call you, isn't it? I need an excuse to go for a walk anyway, a very LONG walk. Too bad your phone isn't waterproof - wouldn't mind being in the shower with you again. EG Look into that, will ya?_

"What's wrong with you Dude?" Dean questioned his brother, who was currently flushed red and making small, unintelligible noises.

Sam looked up at him quickly shut off his phone. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably on his seat. He looked out the window and took a few deep breaths. Memories filtered through his head and he shifted again. He couldn't push them away. "Nothing," Sam said gruffly then cleared his throat.

"Come on Sammy. It had to be something. You're all red," Dean raised an eyebrow and studied his brother's face.

"Really, it was nothing," Sam repeated, then quickly changed the subject. "So I did some looking into the place Dad wants us to go. It looks like a pretty malevolent spirit. There've been three deaths over the past two years. Each one in a kind of ritualistic fashion," Sam told Dean as his brother stared out of the window while he drove.

"So it should be a simple salt and torch job. My favorite."

Sam frowned as he watched Dean. Before Louisiana, Dean had always been psyched before a hunt. Enthused, even. Now, he seemed to be bored and dragging his heels. The trip from Louisiana to New York would normally take them a day, perhaps two, if they'd driven straight through. Usually, with stops, it would be a week. Yet after three weeks, they were barely halfway there.

Dean's game was suffering too. When they'd stopped to hustle up some cash, he'd been coming back with less and less. They'd have to scare up a credit card soon if things kept up. He'd tried to talk to him about it, but Dean just brushed it off, like usual.

They pulled off the road not long later, into the parking lot of a small motel. Sam went in to register and Dean sat in the car, waiting. In the dark, he reached up to idly play with the pendant that hung perpetually around his neck.

Unconsciously, he separated the small charm that hung on the cord behind the pendant. His fingers traced the rose and cross as he looked out unseeing at the night. At the familiar squeak of the passenger door opening, he dropped his hand from the pendant and shifted in his seat.

"It's just up here," Sam told him.

Dean pulled the car up in front of the motel room and climbed out silently. He grabbed his bag from the back seat of the car and waited for Sam to open the door. He tossed his bag on the bed and then began to pace around the room restlessly.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed and then flopped backward onto it, stretching out the cramp in his back. He turned his head and looked at Dean as he paced. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Dean said absently. Putting his hands on his hips, he then turned and grabbed his coat again. "I'm going to go find a game. We could use some extra cash."

"Dean, you've been driving all day. We should get an early start tomorrow," Sam sat up, bracing himself up on his elbows.

"I know. I won't be long," Dean said and then walked out of the motel room.

Sam sighed and shook his head as his brother left the room. His eyes then snapped open and a smile drifted across his face. Reaching into his coat pocket, he dug out his phone and turned it on, flipping through the phone book to find the number that he was looking for. He quickly sent the page and waited, hoping it wouldn't be long. His smile grew when the phone rang moments later.

Dean walked into the bar not too far from the motel and looked around at the crowd of guys around the pool table. He sized them up pretty quickly, and decided which ones would be the easiest to fleece.

"Can I get you something?" the female voice asked from behind him and he turned around.

His heart thumped in his chest for a moment when he caught sight of the halo of red hair. He blinked slowly and looked down at the bored blue eyes before blinking and forcing himself to breathe. "A beer," he said gruffly, then gave her a passably charming smile. "Thanks."

Sitting down at a table, he watched the players picking up on their strengths and their weaknesses. When the waitress came over with his beer, he turned his gaze away. He had to stop. Every time he saw a flash of red hair, he found himself hoping a pair of flashing green eyes accompanied it. He'd been doing it for weeks. She had closed the door. It had been her decision.

"Hey," one of the players had stepped away from the crowd and approached him. "You waiting to play?" he asked Dean.

"I was hoping to get a game in," Dean began.

"You can join us if you want," the man said and his buddies murmured their agreement.

"I don't know. Watching you guys," Dean gave a shake of his head. "You look pretty good. I haven't played in a long time."

"We'll take it easy on you," the man told him.

Dean smiled inwardly. "Sure. If you don't mind," he said grabbing one of the house sticks. Time to go to work.

_**Chapter Three**_

Kit pulled into the rest stop and turned the engine off before glancing into the backseat where Evan was still sleep. She shook her head slowly and then grabbed her computer bag as she climbed out of the car. Shutting the door carefully so she wouldn't wake her sister, Kit went over to the picnic tables nearby and sat.

She looked out over the flat land, watching as the sliver of the new moon started to rise. The moon meant something different to her now. During her short stint as a werewolf, the moon had pulled at something deep inside her, changed her even now that she was cured. She shuddered with the memory and rubbed at her arms.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she pulled out her cell phone and turned it on then pulled out her laptop. Digging in the bag, she found the wireless router they had picked up and turned it on. Powering up the computer, she found the local connection number and dialed it on her cell. With a few taps on the touch pad, she was connected to the internet and her email account. Her face brightened when she saw the familiar name.

_You are evil, you know that! I read your last email in the car and had to explain to Dean why I was suddenly all red. I told him I got a spam email that surprised me and now he won't stop pestering me about what kind it was - hot Russian Lolita girls or herbal erection enhancements. If I kill him, can I plead insanity? _

_Meanwhile, now I'm wondering if it's possible to use my phone while it's in a ziplock bag. See what you've done to me? Now you've got me thinking like that too. But I'm glad you're okay, it could have been a lot worse in Flagstaff. We're just pulling into Virginia, and it's actually kind of pretty. Wish I had someone to share the scenery with other than Dean. He just grunts and stares out the windshield._

She smiled as she read the email. It had been sent a few days ago, and she had talked to Sam on the phone since then, but it was still good to see his words.

When she had gotten the page from Sam, she had made Evan pull off at a nearby motel, claiming that she was feeling sick after being cooped up in the car so long. Evan had groused, but had pulled off at a roadside motel anyway before going into town to get some coffee and food. Kit had quickly pulled out her phone and given a prayer of thanks that she was able to get some halfway decent reception.

Kit hadn't wanted to hang up an hour later, but her battery was about to die. She had hung up sadly, but with a grin on her face. The hour had gone by way too fast.

Her grin had turned to irritation when Evan had come back two hours later. With no food. Kit was bitching her sister out for taking so long when she noticed the bruise forming on her sister's jaw, the scraped knuckles and the torn shirt. When she had asked Evan about it, she had just brushed it off.

Later that night, Kit noticed more bruises on her sister's ribs and back, but Evan had disappeared into the bathroom before she could ask her about it. Kit left to get them something to eat while Evan showered. By the time she returned, Evan had changed into a long nightshirt and was lying in bed, the computer open on her lap. They ate and went to sleep, hoping for an early start the next day.

The next morning, Evan was awake before her, which was not a normal occurrence. Kit had been giving the room a once over to make sure that they weren't leaving anything behind when she noticed the torn and bloody shirt in the garbage. She frowned at her sister, determined to talk about it, but she'd never gotten the chance. Evan had turned the music up as soon as they pulled out of the parking lot, effectively cutting herself off.

Now, as Kit looked over at the car and the glint of Evan's hair in the window, she shook her head sadly. She wished she knew what to do. She could research the net and find all kinds of ways to kill whatever they were hunting, but she couldn't fix this.

Evan was in pain. It was written on her face, in her actions. She barely slept and when she did sleep, she was restless and woke up more drawn than the day before. She was so exhausted that she had fallen asleep at the wheel not too long ago. She wasn't eating and despite her quick changes of clothes, Kit could see that her sister had lost weight, weight she couldn't really afford to lose. For the life of her, Kit didn't know what to do to help. She wished that Evan would just open up to her.

Unaware of her sister's musings, Evan turned restlessly in the back seat. Her heart began to race painfully in her chest and her breathing grew fast and shallow. She struggled in her sleep, trying to run away from the memories and fragmented distorted images.

A single crystal clear image stood out in her mind - Dean being rushed by the were. She could hear his cry of surprise and pain echoing, and then the sickening thud as he struck the tree. She whimpered as it played again and again in her mind.

Evan jerked awake, unaware of the tears that streaked her face. She forced the image away but she couldn't shake the fear it had dredged up. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she pulled them up to her chest and laid her forehead against her knees. Her head pounded painfully. "It was just a dream," she whispered to herself, "Just a dream."

She had hoped that putting some distance between them would make the dreams and the guilt die down, even just a little. But it hadn't. Louisiana was still on her mind more then she would like to admit, even to herself. Her hands trembled as she pushed them through her hair. She scratched her head in frustration and took a deep breath.

Looking out of the car window, Evan saw Kit tapping away on the computer and knew that she was emailing Sam. She'd known that Kit had been communicating with him since they had left, and despite what her sister might think, she was actually happy about it.

Evan had worried about Kit when she decided the Callums and the Winchesters needed to part ways. Kit had gotten attached so fast, and she needed that. It was good to see Kit happy, so there was no way she was going to stop her from communicating with Sam. 'As if I'd be able to,' she told herself.

Evan grabbed her jacket from where it had fallen to the floor and pulled it on. The sun was setting and the evening was beginning to get chilly. Climbing over the seat of the car, she pushed the door open and climbed out, walking over to where her sister was sitting. "How long was I asleep?"

Kit closed up the computer as her sister approached and gave her an assessing look. Evan still looked tired. The circles under her eyes had gotten even darker, which only emphasized her pallor. Evan hadn't brushed her hair since she'd woken and it was tangled, more evidence of her restless slumber. "A few hours," she replied.

Evan sat down at the picnic table and jammed her hands into her jacket pockets. "I'm sorry about before," she said quietly. "I guess I was a little more tired than I thought."

"That's what happens when you don't sleep. And when you go out hunting at all hours of the night without me," Kit replied bluntly, which caused Evan to look at her. "I've seen the bruises and the bloody shirts. Why?"

"I'm restless," Evan said.

"It's more than that, Sis. Come on, talk to me!"

"Kit it's," Evan sighed. She didn't know how to explain without Kit getting upset. However she said it, Kit was going to take it as being her fault. And it wasn't.

"Damn it, I'll kill Dean," Kit began, but Evan cut her off.

"It wasn't him, it was me," she said softly, gazing off over the tree line.

"What happened Evan?" Kit asked, but when her sister frowned, she knew that she wasn't going to get an answer. "Fine. Whatever, I won't push. Just promise me one thing?"

"Hmm?"

"No more hunting solo," Kit looked at her sister seriously. "If you do, I'm going to have to slap you like the bitch you are." Kit then smiled at her sister, hoping just for a glimpse of the smile that used to come so easily to Evan.

"You couldn't take me," Evan replied with a small smile.

"I could so totally take you," Kit replied. "I'm taller."

"Yeah, well I'm quicker," Evan retorted. "We should go. We should hit Cali in a day or two, which means that I have two days to prepare myself to face Mom and Dad," Evan said in a decidedly unenthusiastic voice. "Yay me."

"Aw come on. It won't be that bad," Kit said than laughed at the look on her sister's face.

_HA HA! Tell him it was an offer for hot live phone action and it listed his cell number. BTW, your phone will work when it's in a baggie. I thought I proved that last time I called. Remember when you asked if it was raining where I was and I started to laugh? _

Sam stifled a laugh as he read the first paragraph of Kit's email. He then shifted in his seat uncomfortably as the memory of that call hit him.

"What's so funny?" Dean asked from beside him as they tore up the road.

Sam smirked. "An email about your side line," he said.

"My side line?" Dean frowned at his brother.

"Man, has your game sunk that low that you have to resort to spamming people's email with your cell phone number for hot live phone sex?"

Dean blinked. For once, he didn't know what to say. Sam went back to Kit's email, biting his lip to stifle his laughter.

_We're in Bakersfield. Be home in a day or so. Evan's asleep in the back. She fell asleep driving. I woke up when she started driving by Braille. She's miserable, Sam. Or maybe I'm just hoping she is, because I am. She's been going out without me lately. Waiting till I'm asleep and sneaking out, then coming back all beat up and bruised and acting like everything's fine. I want to strangle her - for being stupid enough to go it alone and for cutting me out of what's going on. It's like she's got a death wish or something._

_Anyway, I hate I-5 and we're getting low on funds, so we're straight through till we get home. Be careful Sam, and don't be afraid to give Dean hell for me. If he's being half as bitchy as Evan, he probably deserves it about now. Miss you. Talk again when I get home_.

Sam typed a reply and then sent it off to Kit. Sighing, he turned off his phone and shoved it into his pocket, watching the trees whip past his window as Dean tore up the road. They were getting closer to New York, just a few more hours.

"So what's going on with Kit?" Dean asked a few minutes later. Sam looked at his brother in surprise, sitting up straighter in his seat. "Sam, I'm not stupid," Dean said to him, glancing at him for a moment then turning back to the road. "I know you've been talking to her. It's not that big a deal."

"I didn't know how you'd be about it. I mean with you and Ev-," Sam stopped when his brother shot him a dark look.

"So what does Kit have to say?"

"Um, they're heading back to California. Their sister Angela is getting married," Sam told him.

"That's good."

Sam looked at his brother and wondered if he should tell him about Kit's worries about her sister, but decided against it. Dean could evidently discuss Kit, but the look he'd gotten before he swallowed Evan's name proved that the eldest Callum sister was still not a topic open for discussion.

They stopped about an hour later, Dean crying the need for sleep. Sam waited until Dean had settled in to watch some inane movie on TV and then went out to get them something to eat. As he walked he pulled out his phone and flipped through the phone book. Finding the number he was looking for he quickly dialed it as he walked into the pizza shop and waited in line.

"Hello?" The familiar female voice answered a moment later.

"Hey Becky," he held his breath for a moment, wondering what kind of reception he was going to get.

The last time he had seen Rebecca had been about six months ago. He and Dean had gone to help her prove her brother's innocence on a murder charge. It hadn't gone as well as expected when they had come up against a rather nasty shapeshifter that had assumed Dean's likeness. His buddy Zach had been freed, Rebecca had been tortured and Dean had been declared dead when he'd killed the shapeshifter still wearing his face.

"Cut it out with that Becky crap," Rebecca Warren said to him, her smile evident in her voice.

"How are you doing?" Sam asked her.

"I'm doing good Sam," she smiled slightly.

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor," he asked her.

_**Chapter Four**_

_I wish I knew what to tell you about Evan. I'd kick Dean's ass if he dumped me to go out alone too. Be careful, okay? I know you're going to try to keep her from going out alone, and you're both tired and on edge. If you can't drive all the way through, I still have some friends from school that I think would be okay with putting you two up overnight. I'll make some calls and see what I can come up with._

_Oh, I took your advice. It was the best 5 minutes of silence I've had in weeks. I don't think he expected that from me at all. So, you were in the shower when you called me? I think I need a shower now, a COLD one._

Kit chuckled as she read through the email. She could just see the stunned look on Dean's face when Sam told him about the hot live action. His concern over her and Evan touched her and made her heart catch in her throat. God she missed him.

_Hey. I just spoke to a friend of mine, Rebecca. She said you are more than welcome to stay with her in Palo Alto if you get too tired. Don't worry, she knows what Dean and I do. A shifter killed her brother's girlfriend in St. Louis. Long story. I included her number if you need it_.

Kit sighed and deleted the next email. It would have been nice to stop for the night and sleep in a bed instead of stretched out in the back seat of the Thunderbird, but they had gotten a call from their mother wondering what was delaying them.

Since then they had driven straight through, taking turns driving while the other slept, and stopping only when absolutely necessary. Evan was just passing the Sacramento city limits as Kit powered off her computer. She looked out of the window and frowned.

Some of the sights had changed in the five years that they had been gone. The storefronts had changed, some of the stores themselves had changed as well, but she could still pick out some familiar sights. As Evan changed highways towards Roseville, she saw that not as much had changed.

Roseville had become a gated community, without the gates. It had been a pretty affluent area back in the day, and since many of the houses had been redeveloped, it had become even more so. It attracted the likes of investment bankers, high-powered CEO's and other wealthy residents.

Evan turned onto their street and slowed down. The large house loomed up in front of them, looking the same as it did when they left. The faux stone front was broken up in places by simple grey siding. Large, arched windows in different parts of the oddly shaped exterior caught one's attention. As did the multitude of flowerbeds that her mother had stocked every year.

She hadn't been home in five years. When she had left, it had been under less than stellar circumstances. Her parents blamed her for Kit's decision to leave school in favor of what they deemed a fool's adventure.

With a resolute sigh, Evan pulled the car into the four car drive way and turned off the engine. The door gave a creak when she opened it and climbed out and stood in the driveway looking up at the house. It wasn't that she was afraid to go home, it was the reception she'd receive.

"It will be okay Sis," Kit said to her, grabbing her bag from the back seat of the car.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Evan replied, grabbing her own bag and slung it over her shoulder as she pushed the door closed.

Walking around the front of the car, the girls stepped up the walkway to the front door. Kit raised her hand to knock on the door when it flew open and their little sister Angela stood in the doorway, beaming.

"You're home!" She cried and threw herself at her two older sisters in a cloud of blond curls and silk skirts. Evan and Kit caught hold of her as she hugged them. When she pulled back they smiled at her.

"You didn't think we'd miss this did you?" Evan asked her.

"We promised you that we would be there," Kit told her.

Evan stilled when she saw the sight of her parents standing in the foyer behind Angela. Edgar Callum stood with his arms folded across his chest, a noncommittal look carved on his rather stern looking face. She could see that there were a few more grey hairs mixed among the blond. There was a little more weight around his waist as well, though he was tall and carried it well. His violet eyes looked over his prodigal daughters.

Victoria Callum stood beside him, her smaller stature almost overwhelmed by that of her taller husband. Her short red hair had been fashionably styled and although neither Kit nor Evan recognized her clothing, it was sure to be some creation from one of the latest local designers. Her green eyes pinned her two oldest, most willful daughters.

Angela stood back and let her sisters into the house. Evan sent a look at her sister and then turned to look at her parents, still not sure what was going to happen.

"Welcome home girls," Edgar said to his daughters and then came over and engulfed them in a tight embrace. Evan sighed and was actually glad that they came home.

New York had been a bust.

Sam sighed as he lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling of the motel. Closing his eyes, he scrubbed his hands tiredly over his face. A human had caused the "ritualistic" killings that their father had sent them to look into. No paranormal involvement at all, which had been surprisingly disappointing.

He sat up and dug the computer out of the bag and pushed himself up to sit cross-legged. Deciding to make use of the time that Dean had commandeered the shower, he quickly powered it up and connected to the internet. He went into his email and was disappointed when he didn't see the address he was looking for.

Dean came out of the bathroom, a towel riding low on his hips as he went over to his bed and started to root around inside his bag. "Find anything?" He asked his brother as he rubbed the other towel over his head.

"Not sure yet," Sam told him, then sadly closed his email. They had received another text message from their father with coordinates for a small town further upstate. It had taken them less than a day to get there, so they had plenty of time to do some research before the bars opened and Dean could go hustle some of the local boys out of some of their hard earned cash.

"Well, I think we might have a solitary vampire," Sam said a short time later. "Nine people in the past three months have reported seeing "someone" lurking in the cemetery not too far from here."

"It could be anything Sammy," Dean said from where he had stretched out on the bed, his eyes closed, a notebook folded face down on his chest.

"Five of the nine people described the same person. And one of them said that they recognized the person, who died six months ago."

"Sounds promising."

"Local coroner," Sam began to read from an archived article," has determined that cause of death was due to massive blood loss. It is noted however that there was no blood discovered at the scene."

"Looks like we have a vamp on our hands. Good. They're always fun to kill," Dean said and then sat up. "We should check out the cemetery, then hit the bar. We need some cash."

Sam watched Dean gather up his things and then walk out of the motel room and out to the car. Shaking his head, he rose from his bed and set the computer to the side, grabbed his jacket and followed his brother out. He paused in shutting the door and watched Dean reach into the glove compartment and bring out something from the inside.

Dean pulled the hilt of the serpentine dagger and withdrew it from the sheath. He stared at it for a moment and a ghost of a smile crossed his face. When Sam opened the car door, he shoved the dagger back inside and then tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "So where is this cemetery?"

"Kit, I'm scared," Evan admitted in a strangled whisper, staring up at the horrible sight before them.

"So am I," Kit replied, swallowing roughly in fear.

"We're going to die,' Evan pointed out.

"Uh, yeah," Kit intoned slowly, her body frozen in shock as she stared ahead of her.

"See any way outta this?"

"Nope," Kit answered. "I think we've run out of luck.

"We can't go out like this," Evan said, staring with wide eyes. "It's inhuman."

"I don't see another way out," Kit told her.

"Very funny you two," Angela said, thrusting the hangers at her sisters. The crinolines rustled, the ruffles fluttered and the bows bounced on a sea of indescribable pink material.

"Angie, it's...pink." Kit said, her face scrunching up.

"We're going to look like sticks of cotton candy!" Evan blurted out.

"I was thinking more Pepto Bismol," Kit added.

"What's wrong with the color?" Angie demanded, staring down at the looks on her sisters' faces. "I think they're gorgeous."

"They're... pink," Evan said slowly.

"I like pink."

"We have red hair," Kit explained.

"My dressmaker said that this shade will go nicely with your hair," Angie argued.

"She lied," Evan said flatly.

"Would you just try them on?" Angie asked in exasperation, handing them the dresses.

Kit and Evan looked at each other and sighed. Four days. They'd been home four days, and Bridezilla had taken over their lives completely. She had made them appointments with the dressmaker for their bridesmaids dresses, and then after this they had to see the florist to make sure their bouquets would match the flowers on the cake, over to the show store to find something that could be dyed in time to match their dresses and then it was off to the salon to find a hairstyle that would complement the dresses, but hide Evan's "hideous" tattoo.

Taking the dresses, they stood up. Angie was their sister. It was her wedding. They had to be supportive. The things one does for family.

Walking into the dressing room, Kit hung the dress up on the back of the door and stared at it. She quirked a brow at the layers of ruffles and bows. In a way it reminded her of Belle's dress in Beauty and the Beast. "Beauty and the Beast on crack," Kit said to herself.

"I heard that," Evan said from the dressing room beside her.

"Still true," Kit said defensively.

Evan gave an unladylike snort of agreement and stared at the dress, taking a deep breath and exhaling with a sigh. Toeing off her boots, she stripped out of her jeans and T-shirt. Taking the dress down off the hanger, she fumbled her way through the crinolines and to find the opening into the dress. Dropping it over her head, she wriggled into it, and then smoothed it down over her hips. Turning, she looked in the full-length mirror. Her eyes widened in horror.

"Oh hell no!" She slapped open the door of the dressing room and stalked to where her mother sat with her sister, the crinolines rustling around her legs. "Okay, I get it that the bride is supposed to be the best-dressed girl at the wedding," she began, then looked at Kit as she rustled over to her. "But this?" Evan waved her hand over herself. "No!"

"Evangeline, please," Victoria said to her oldest daughter.

"Mom!" Angie whined.

"Angie, come on be serious!" Kit piped up. "We look like something out of a John Hughes movie."

"Your father and I have left you two alone for years, given you free reign. All I've asked in all that time is that you come home to be in your sister's wedding. Angie asks one thing of you. Is it really that difficult to concede?" Victoria said to her daughters.

Evan and Kit looked at the resolve on their mother's face and stopped. They closed their eyes and admitted defeat, slumping back to the dressing rooms.

"That's it," Evan before shutting the door. "I need to go kill something."

"Right there with ya," Kit said, resigned.

When they got back to the house a few hours later, Evan excused herself for a jog. Kit had started to protest, but relented when her sister promised that it was a jog and nothing more. Kit had wanted to come along, but their mother roped her into running an errand for her, leaving Evan free to go out.

Evan quickly changed into her track pants and matching sweatshirt. She grabbed her pink MP3 player and plugged herself in, blowing Kit a teasing kiss as she went out the door, ignoring the rude gesture Kit returned in her peripheral vision.

She started off at a brisk walk through the neighborhood and when she felt loose enough, she started to jog through the schoolyards and local parks.

She quickly found that the problem with being on her own was that there wasn't anyone there to help take her mind off things. She didn't want to think about what had almost happened to Kit. She didn't want to think about what happened between her and Dean. She didn't want to think about Dean at all. But the thoughts kept flooding into her head, and with no distractions, she was unable to keep them at bay.

Stopping when a painful stitch formed in her side, Evan pulled the earphones out and looped them around her neck, breathing deeply and walking slowly until it went away. She was about to start running again when she heard a voice calling out.

Pausing, she looked around but could find no one in the street or the well-kept front yards of the upscale houses. She dismissed it and was about to put her earphones back in when she heard it again.

She slowly turned around and watched the houses, expecting to see a group of teens pulling a prank, but there was no one there.

"Help me!"

It was more distinct now, more urgent. Evan turned towards the voice and looked at the house across the street. She remembered the house from her youth, and something about it now nagged at her memory. There had always been a rumor that it was haunted, but when she and Kit had checked it out before, there had been no sign of any spiritual activity.

Checking the street, Evan crossed and stood on the sidewalk outside of the house and looked over the lawn at it. The windows hung empty and she could see the large lumps of white, probably the furniture left behind by the previous owners covered in sheets to protect from the dust.

She frowned and listened again, but heard nothing. Evan was about to chalk it up to imagination, but it came again. Reaching out to her, almost as though it were inside of her head.

"Help me!"

Squinting against the sun, Evan could have sworn that she saw a figure of a young woman appear in the front window, bang on the glass and then look over her shoulder. With a scream, the girl took off through the house.

Evan ran up the driveway and up the stone walk to the front door. She gripped the front knob but it was locked. The door refused to open when she slammed her shoulder against it. She banged on the door in frustration and then turned to jump off the landing. She ran around the side of the house, calling out when she heard the girl scream again.

Taking the steps of the wide stone terrace at the back of the house, Evan grasped the door handles of the French doors and rattled them. Lifting her foot, she kicked at the doorframe and the doors swung inwards. She darted into the house and stopped in the dining room to listen.

The musty air surrounded her and Evan found it hard to breath for the dust. The sunshine outside barely penetrated the dining room and she squinted into the interior of the house.

"Help!" The voice filtered in through one of the rooms and Evan ran towards it.

"Hello?" she called, stopping in what might have once been a music room. She looked around, but found no one in sight. Peering into the dim light, she pressed the crook of her arm against her mouth and nose trying to block out the musty scent.

"Hello?" she called again as she walked deeper into the house. Looking around, she jumped slightly when something moved in front of her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was a long mirror in the foyer and it was her own reflection. She turned away from the hall, not seeing the figure of the girl slowly fade into the mirror.

The girl's mouth opened in a silent scream and she faded from the mirror. As Evan walked up the hallway to the stairs, the girl's face appeared in the broken glass of one of the pictures on the wall, following behind her in the frames as Evan made her way to the stairs.

Evan stepped up onto the bottom stair and looked at one of the pictures on the wall. Reaching out, she brushed her finger over the glass, sweeping off some of the dust. She breathed in sharply as a face appeared behind her, but when she turned, there was nothing there. A cold shiver ran down her spine and she looked around.

Sunshine streamed in through windows and she could hear the birds chirping outside. She laid her hand on the gleaming oak banister. She loved it when her mother polished the furniture; the clean citrus-y scent filled the air. Making her way up the stairs, she paused and looked out of the window at the top of the stairs. Her little brother was playing in the backyard and she smiled as he kicked the soccer ball to their mother.

Turning away from the window, she made her way up the second set of stairs to the top floor of the house. Walking into the bathroom, she stood at the mirror and looked at her reflection, frowning as she caught sight of the sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of her nose. Mother said they would fade, but she was beginning to wonder.

With a shrug, she picked up the elastic and pulled her long black hair back into a ponytail and then turned the tap on. Opening the medicine cabinet, she pulled out her father's straight razor and then closed the cabinet.

"That's it," the voice in her head said softly. "It will be so much better when it's done."

"Yes. Yes it will," she said slowly, absently. She raised the straight razor.

Evan blinked suddenly and found herself in the gloomy dust-filled bathroom.

"What am I doing here?" she questioned herself, shaking her head at how foolish she was being. There was obviously no one in the house, it had all been in her head. The stress over the past few months and Angie's upcoming wedding must be playing tricks on her mind because she seemed to have zoned out and couldn't even remember walking up the stairs.

Walking back down the hall to the stairs, Evan went down and back the way she came. She had a moment of trepidation as she stepped out of the French doors into the sunshine. Turning, she grasped the handles of the doors and pulled them closed. A small smile played around her lips, then disappeared as Evan shook off the strange feeling and walked away from the house, putting her earphones back in and jogging slowly up the drive and back towards home.

_OMG, kill me now Sam, I'm begging you. I've seen more horrors in the time that I have been home than I ever have before now. Pink satin with ruffles and bows. I want to be dead. Seriously! Think Senior Prom dipped in Pepto Bismol. I am officially in Hell and Bridezilla has my life scheduled out the ass until the wedding. Be thinking of you when I get bombed at the reception - cause you look so hot in a suit. Wish you both were here. _

_Ha - isn't that funny? I'd put up with Dean making fun of these damn dresses if he was just here to give Evan a good kick in the ass (or maybe just a good fuck) so she'll stop either ragging on me or ignoring me as she has been doing for the past few days. And oh god, did that mental image just scar you for life as much as it did me? I need a drink. Or ten. Is it too late to get myself disowned so your Dad can adopt me? Wait, NM, cause that makes the last few weeks illegal in 48 states. :)_

Sam couldn't help the laugh that sprang to his lips as he read the email. He could hear Kit's exasperation and wished that he could be there to rescue her from a fate worse than death, which apparently this was.

"What's so funny?" Dean questioned him from across the room where he was counting out the cash he had hustled the night before.

"Pepto Bismol," Sam said and then shook his head at the confused frown his brother sent him. "Never mind, had to be there."

"Get your stuff together. I want to hit Ripley before dark," Dean said, tucking the money into his pocket and rising from the table to grab his bag and head out to the car.

"I'll be out in a second," Sam said to him, and powered off his phone. Rising from his bed, Sam went into the bathroom and turned the water on. Absently, he squirted toothpaste onto the brush and started to brush his teeth, still chuckling as he thought about Kit in the pink dress.

It was a moment before he realized something was off. When his tongue, lips and gums began to get numb he realized something was really wrong. Looking at his toothbrush, he frowned, or rather tried to. Picking up the tube of toothpaste he squirted some out and examined it. He saw traces of the clear pink gel mixed in with the paste and shook his head.

Cupping his hand under the water, he tried to rinse his mouth, but it was difficult. He closed his eyes and prayed for patience. Wiping his mouth with the towel, he gathered up his things and went out to the motel room. Shoving everything into his bag, he walked out of the motel room and slammed the door. He glared at Dean who leaned against the Impala, trying not to smirk as he held the tube of Orajel up for Sam to see.

"Vewwy fubby, jewk" Sam mumbled.

"Get the marbles outta your mouth Dude," Dean let out a burst of laughter as Sam's glare darkened.

Sam walked around the car and threw his bag in the back seat before climbing in. He sent his brother a scathing look as Dean climbed into the car, still crowing with laughter when he looked at his little brother.

"I will geb you fwer dis," Sam said numbly which only caused Dean to laugh harder.

Dean reached over into the glove compartment and pulled out a napkin and gave it to his brother. "No drooling in the car."

Sam mumbled something that Dean was sure wasn't very polite and started the car, pulling out of the motel parking lot. On second thought, maybe his Dad could adopt Kit. Right after he disowned Dean.

_Thanks so much for the image of what your sister and my brother did when they disappeared together. I really didn't need that, although I pretty much figured it out when he came back with teeth marks on his chest. Pour me one too, will you? No, Dad can't adopt you - I kind of like the non-related thing we have right now. Although right now I would trade Dean for Evan. Dean's found a new way to deal with things. Practical jokes. He put Orajel in my toothpaste!_

_Pepto Bismol pink satin huh? LOL! Sorry, sorry. I bet Evan's even more upset about it than you are. Wish I could be there though - think any of the bridesmaids would dance with me?_

_We just pulled into Ripley. New York was a bust, but I think we might have something good this time. We'll be pretty busy too. Message me when you can though, okay? I may not get to answer right away, but I still want to hear from you._

Kit read the email and hooted in laughter. She thought seriously about trying the Orajel on Evan, it might spark at least some kind of reaction from her sister. Kit shut her computer down, a frown on her face.

For the past four days Evan had become even more distant, not just from their parents and Angie, but from her as well. She had also become more restless and agitated, which Kit thought had come from being forced into inactivity while they were home, but she was now thinking that it was more than that.

At times, she seemed to become almost paranoid, hearing sounds that weren't there; talking to herself and jumping to suspicions whenever someone said anything to her. And she would make strange comments about the past that no one in the family could put into context. Yet when asked about them, she would seem to become her normal, yet strangely forgetful self and deny making the comment.

"Earth to Kit," Evan said to her sister, waving her hand in front of her face.

"Sorry," Kit said, bringing herself back from her contemplation and looking up at Evan. Her face was flushed from her jog, which was the first bit of color that had touched her skin in a while.

"That must have been some email from Sam," Evan said, then grinned at the surprised look on her little sister's face.

"How did you know?"

"Doesn't take a genius," Evan said with a bit of her former smile. "Kit, I'm sorry about how I've been with you lately." Sitting down on the retaining wall around the stone terrace at the back of the house and looking out over the manicured lawn Evan sighed.

"Ready to talk about you and Dean?" Kit asked, sitting down with her sister.

"I got scared," Evan said honestly. She took a shallow breath trying to keep her voice steady. "You were right."

"I usually am," Kit commented with a grin. "But what I was right about this time?"

"About Dean and me. What happened in the woods that night, you were right. I wasn't really thinking about what was happening to you."

"C'mon, that wasn't me. That was the infection talking," Kit told Evan, stunned at her sisters words.

Evan shook her head, "It was what you were thinking, the infection just made it easier. But you were right. All these years, ever since Nan died… it's been you and me and we've always had each other's back. Then a guy comes along and.. I almost lost you."

"Ev, he's not just a guy. Dean and Sam are different, they're like us. They're not going to freak over the boogity boos."

"It's not just that Kit. When Dean went down from that were, I freaked. I was sure I'd lost him."

"So you bailed before you got any closer," Kit surmised.

"Yeah," Evan picked dejectedly at a blade of grass.

"Evan, if you keep walking away, you're going to get to where you're going, but have no one there to share it with."

"You kidding me? I'll have my little sister with me," Evan grinned at Kit, bumping her with her shoulder playfully.

Kit snorted. "Sorry Sis, but I'm gonna be off hunting with Sam. And having the hot sex afterward."

Looking at her sister, Evan burst out laughing, and Kit couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. It was good to hear Evan laugh again.

"I'd better go shower. Where is it that we have to go again?" Evan asked Kit as she rose from the wall.

"We have to go have your dress taken in," Kit replied, setting her computer aside.

"Think there's any chance she might ruin it while doing that?" Evan asked with a bit of hope.

"Doubtful," Kit said with a grin, then burst into laughter as Evan hung her head and walked slowly into the house.

Evan went up the stairs and into her bedroom. Tugging the earphones to her MP3 player from around her neck, she pulled the player from the waistband of her jogging pants and tossed it on the bed. Pulling the sweatshirt over her head, she tossed it in the hamper by the door. She toed her running shoes off and stripped out of her jogging pants and t-shirt. Wrapping her body in her bathrobe, she left her bedroom and went into the bathroom.

She paused as she walked into the bathroom, her head swimming suddenly. "Oh. Too much sun," she said softly to herself and then went over to the sink.

Twisting the tap on, she ran her fingers under the water, waiting as it cooled. Pulling her hair from the scrunchie, she looked at herself in the mirror and ran her fingers through the long black strands, leaning in to stare into her blank brown eyes.

Evan shook her head slowly and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she saw her own sweat-damp red hair and green eyes staring back at her. She grabbed the facecloth from the side of the sink and dampened it with the cold water, running it over her pale face as she thought. "Way too much sun," she said to her reflection. Sunstroke maybe?

Turning her attention back to the mirror, she put her fingers to her temple as a sudden pain flared through her head.

_It's your fault. She blames you for keeping them apart._

The voice, faint and scratchy seemed to filter through her mind, making Evan jump slightly. Looking around she saw nothing around her. Shaking her head slightly, she looked at herself again.

_It's your fault. She blames you for keeping them apart._

The voice, this time stronger and more distinctly female sounding came out to her, almost as if it were right beside her.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, she rubbed her temples trying to push the sudden thoughts out of her head, but they grew stronger. Snippets of conversation reached out to her from the past. Screaming arguments with her mother over her father's death and her new boyfriend. Her mother shouting at her that she wished it had been her that died in the accident, not her father.

_Why don't you just die? She wants you to._

She rose from edge of the tub and stood in front of the mirror. She opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the razor. Closing it looked at her pale features, her blank brown eyes staring back at her. Her dark hair hung limply around her face, unkempt and unwashed.

_That's it. It will be so much better. Everyone will be happier when you're gone._

Sliding off her robe, she stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain closed and twisting on the taps. Once the water grew hot enough, she turned the shower on and stood under the beating spray. The water ran over her and she looked down at her arms.

Turning them over, she looked at the razor blade in her hand and without much thought drew it up and over her arm, frowning slightly at the red water that puddled in the bottom of the tub and swirled down the drain.

Pain flared briefly as she cut into the other arm. She stood calmly as the water poured down over her, her head beginning to swim. Her legs collapsed beneath her and she fell over the edge of the tub to lie on the cold tile floor.

_That's it. Good girl._

"Evan, you done in the shower yet?" Kit yelled as she came in through the back door of the house. She walked through to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long, much-needed drink. Capping the bottle, Kit noticed that Evan hadn't answered her.

"Evan?" Kit called again. At the sound of running water upstairs, she shook her head. Walking up the stairs, Kit knocked on the bathroom door. "Hurry up in there. We have to meet Angie at the dress shop. And don't use all the hot water, I still need a shower," Kit called through the door.

When Evan didn't answer, Kit frowned. Banging the flat of her hand on the door it opened slightly then stopped when it bumped against something. Kit frowned and gave the door a gentle shove. It thumped against something harder.

"Sis?" Kit peered in through the slender crack in the doorway. She went cold when she saw her sister's foot sprawled out on the floor. "Evan!" Moving down the hall, she went into her bedroom and threw open the adjoining bathroom door.

Evan lay still on the floor on her side on the tile floor, her naked form tangled in the shower curtain. Kit stepped into the bathroom then grabbed at the doorframe as her foot slipped in a puddle on the tile. She looked down and gagged when she realized that she was standing in a puddle of bloody water.

"Oh shit!" She breathed in shock. Taking another step, she slid again and fell to her knees and crawled over to Evan. Reaching out her hand, she pushed at her sister's shoulder. Evan slumped over onto her back. Her pale face stood out starkly against her red hair and the blood that clung to her skin.

She reached out and pressed her fingers to her sister's throat. She held her breath, holding in the sob as she waited agonizing moments to feel the thump against her fingertips. When it came, it was barely noticeable, but it was there. It felt like an eternity before there was another.

Kit grabbed Evan's shoulders. "Evan!" she screamed, shaking her sister. She barely heard the sound of metal clattering against the tile floor. Looking down she saw the razor blade sinking into the pool of blood. She frowned at it for a moment, trying to place what it was. Her eyes widened when she realized what she was looking at. Snatching her sister's hands, she saw the long slices up her forearms, mingled with other cuts.

"What the hell did you do?" Her breath left her lungs and her head swam. "Evan, what did you do?" She screamed, tears burning her eyes as she looked at the raw red wounds.

Struggling to her feet she ran into her bedroom, not caring that she tracked bloody foot prints across the carpet. She grabbed for the phone and dialed 911, her tears now streaming down her face.

"911, what's-" the operator began.

"I need help! My sister's had an accident. Please hurry. Please!"

"Calm down Ma'am. What's the address?"

Kit tried to calm her voice as she gave the woman the address. "Please hurry."

"What's happened?"

"I don't know. There's blood. All over. She's not moving."

"Is she breathing?"

"Barely," Kit cried. "Please send an ambulance!" Kit yelled then dropped the phone, going back into the bathroom. She didn't hear the woman on the other end of the phone as she fell to her knees beside Evan.

Pulling her head into her lap, she stroked her hair softly, crooning to her sister softly. "It's going to be okay, Evan. Help will be here soon." Taking her sister's hands, Kit curled them against her chest and then reached for some of the fluffy towels to cover her so she wouldn't be cold.

"Evan, what have you done?" Tears streamed down her face as she stroked Evan's hair and talked to her softly while she waited to hear the sirens of the ambulance.

Kit was still in shock hours later when they pulled into the driveway. She climbed out of the car and headed to the front door, ignoring her parents when they called her name. She climbed wearily up the stairs, stopping when she got to the bathroom door. She reached out to push it open, but in her mind the sight of Evan lying on the floor, surrounded by all that - she pushed the thought away.

She walked into her room and sat on the edge of her bed. Looking down at herself she felt a wave of nausea hit her when she saw the bloody stains on her clothes. She pushed back the nausea, but couldn't stop the tears that sprang to her eyes. Burying her face into her hands, she let out the sob that clawed at her chest.

At the hospital, they had barred her from going into the trauma room as they worked on her sister. The police and the doctors had thrown questions at her. Had Evan been using drugs? Had she been depressed? Had she shown suicidal tendencies before? Kit couldn't think.

She tried to answer them, but all she could see was Evan laying on the gurney, her once vibrant face now empty and drawn. She had snapped. She screamed at the doctors to save her sister and told the police in no uncertain terms to leave her the hell alone so she could be with Evan.

Shortly afterwards, they had moved Evan to the Intensive Care Unit. Her body was still in shock from the loss of blood, but she was doing better. Her heartbeat, while still irregular, was growing stronger. Her blood pressure was rising and her breathing was becoming stable again. They had sedated her to keep her still.

Kit hadn't wanted to leave her sister's side, but the Doctors had wanted to talk to them.

"Does Evangeline…"

Kit cut him off. "Evan. No one but my parents call her Evangeline," she said dully.

"Does Evan," he corrected, "have a history of suicide attempts?"

"No. She's never done anything like this before," her mother answered tearfully.

"Has she been depressed?"

"I don't think so," her father answered.

"Yes," Kit said. Looking at her father, then at the doctor, she added, "But she wouldn't try to commit suicide over it. She's not that kind of person."

"Has she been acting out of character at all?" He pressed.

"Yes she has," Kit answered slowly, thinking about how Evan had been over the past few weeks, but again, she wouldn't go to such drastic lengths over it. "She's been kind of moody."

"Moody?" Angela asked her sister incredulously. "She's been a bitch."

"Shut the hell up, Angela!" Kit said vehemently.

"Katarina!" Her mother said sharply.

"Look, Evan has her own way of dealing with things. Always has," Kit told her sister.

"How do you explain the paranoia? And the talking to herself?"

"She's been exhibiting signs of paranoia?" The doctor asked Kit.

"I guess. But like I said, Evan has her own way of dealing with things."

"I think that once your daughter is more stable, I would like to schedule her for psychiatric observation," the doctor told her parents.

"She's not crazy," Kit interjected.

"It's standard procedure in attempted suicides," he told her.

"Evan didn't try to commit suicide," Kit denied.

Now as she sat there at the edge of her bed, Kit had to wonder. She had seen the razor blade, she had seen the cuts on her sister's arms, and she had known what had happened. But she didn't want to bring herself to admit it. Yes, Evan had been acting strangely over the past weeks. But she seemed different after she had talked to her out on the terrace, more like her old self. How could things have gone so wrong in such a short time?

"Katarina?" There came a soft knock at her door, and her mother poked her head around it looking at her. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No thanks Mom," Kit answered, wiping the tears that had started to stream down her face. "I'm just going to get changed and then go back to the hospital."

"Your sister won't be awake for hours yet," Victoria told her.

"I know, but I have to be there with her," Kit said before rising from her bed. She had to change first. She couldn't stand the sight of the blood on her clothes any longer.

"Katarina," Victoria began.

"Mom, please," Kit said gruffly.

"All right," she said, then ducked out of her daughter's room.

Stripping out of the stained clothes, she went to the bathroom door and stopped abruptly. The blood and towels were still on the floor. She could smell it, sharp and coppery. Gagging, she turned away and pressed her hand to her mouth.

She stumbled back to her bed and breathed deeply to calm herself. Glancing at her nightstand, she saw her cell phone and picked it up. Her hand shook as she went through the address book. As the phone rang, she ran a hand through her hair, feeling it tangle around her fingers.

"C'mon, come on. Please be there," she said anxiously to herself. The familiar voice answered and Kit felt herself sink a little when she realized she'd gotten his voicemail. "Sam? Oh god. It's Kit. I really need to talk to you right now. I hope you get this soon. Call me back ASAP. Evan," she cleared her throat. "Evan's in the hospital. I came in from the back yard and there was blood everywhere and she was on the floor and I just," her voice broke and she choked back a sob. "And I just. Oh god, please. Just call me. Please."

Kit hung up the phone and threw it onto her bed, burying her face in her hands to sob brokenly. "For Christ's sake Evan, why would you do it?"

It was a little while before Kit could stem the flood of tears. When she did, she quickly pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and grabbed her phone off the bed, shoving it into her pocket.

She jammed her feet into a pair of battered boots and walked out of her bedroom. She stopped in Evan's bedroom and went through the drawers of the dresser and found a flannel pajama top and a matching pair of pants. If Evan was going to have to stay in the hospital, she wasn't going to want to wear one of the hospital gowns. Kit shoved them, and some toiletries into a small overnight bag and slung it over her shoulder and leaving the bedroom. Going down the stairs, she ducked into the powder room just off the kitchen and ran some cold water over her face.

Hearing voices from the front room, she paused in the doorway and looked at her sister and her parents. Shock seemed to have set in with them. Even her father, who usually so stoic, looked rattled. His hands shook as he sipped a glass of bourbon. Her mother sat weeping quietly on the couch. It was Angela that made Kit stop. Her face was drawn into a tight frown.

"I'm going back to the hospital," she told them.

"Are you sure you don't want something to eat? I ordered pizza," her mother asked her, her voice hesitant as if she was trying to remember why she did it. "I didn't feel like," she started.

"It's okay Mom. I'm not hungry. Save me some, okay?" Kit forced a smile to her lips, trying to reassure her mother.

"Call us if she wakes up?" Edgar asked her.

"I will. You guys get some sleep."

"Saint Katarina," Angela said under her breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Going back to the hospital, while the rest of us sit here," Angela stood up from her chair and put her hands on her hips. "You think she cares that you're there?"

"Shut your mouth, Angie." Kit said, her anger rising.

"If she cared about any of us, she wouldn't have done this!" Angela shouted.

"Angela!" her parents barked.

"She did this on purpose!" Angela continued. "She's doing this to ruin my wedding!"

"You selfish little bitch!" Kit snarled, her hands curling at her sides in an effort to prevent herself from slapping Angela.

"Girls. Stop it!" Victoria shouted, rising from the couch. "Katarina, go to the hospital. Be with your sister. Angela, you sit down this instant!"

"I don't need this shit from you, Angie. Not now," Kit said, then turned and walked out of the room, She grabbed the keys to the Thunderbird where Evan had tossed them on the entry table and left the house, slamming the door behind her.

Climbing into the car, she viciously cranked the engine over and threw it into reverse. With a squeal of the tires, she headed back to the hospital. Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, she glanced at it and whispered. "Call me Sam. Please."

_**Chapter Six**_

Sam dropped into the chair and sighed. Dean pulled his coat off and tossed it onto the other chair. He then sat on the bed and lay back with a groan.

"Okay, that was one tough son-of-a-bitch," Dean said, his eyes closing for a moment as he felt the tension start to leave his body.

"Yeah, it was," Sam agreed, slouching down in the chair. "It must have been an old ghost. It certainly held up against the salt," he explained wearily.

"I'm just glad it's gone," Dean said.

Stopping in one of the little towns in upper New York, they had found a nasty spirit that had been haunting one of the camping areas, preying on little children. It had taken them a while, but they had finally been able to find the bones and had been trying to salt and torch them when the spirit took exception.

Sam had shot round after round of rock salt at it, but it hadn't done much more than piss it off more. Dean had tried to torch the bones, but the spirit had sent him flying. Sam had finally been able to distract it while Dean torched the bones.

Sam tipped his head back and sighed, his eyes sliding closed. A few moments later he was jerked out of his doze when his phone vibrated against his hip. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked. Two missed calls. Checking his messages, he listened carefully. "New coordinates from Dad," he said, idly writing them down on a piece of motel stationary.

"Please tell me it's somewhere warm. I'm getting sick of the rain up here," Dean mumbled sleepily without opening his eyes.

"Don't know yet," Sam told him and then went on to the next one. He sat up straight in the chair as he heard Kit's voice. As soon as the message finished, he paged through his address book and dialed her number.

"Hey, it's me. I just got your message," Sam said as soon as Kit answered the phone. "What happened?"

Dean frowned, lifting his head to look at his brother, mouthing at him, "Is it Dad?" But when Sam waved his hand and shook his head, Dean figured that it was Kit and pulled a pillow over his head. He was too tired to leave to give them some "alone time" but he also didn't want to hear the conversation.

"Where are you now?" Sam asked urgently and ripped off a new sheet of paper to write down the address that Kit gave him. He listened for a moment and then said softly, "It'll be okay. Don't worry. See you soon." Sam hit the button on his phone and then looked at his brother lying on the bed. "Dean, we have to go to Sacramento."

"Is that where Dad is sending us?" Dean mumbled from under the pillow. "Can we head out in the morning? I need some sleep."

"No. That was Kit. She needs us," Sam said, still trying to process what she had told him.

"Dad gave us our next location Sam," Dean said shortly. He wasn't sure he was ready to see the Callum sisters again. "Besides, I'm sure they can handle whatever it is."

Sam looked at his brother and frowned. He didn't know how he was going to react. "Something's wrong with Evan."

"Already knew that Sammy," Dean said, brushing off his brother's words.

"This is serious," Sam said slowly. "Kit's freaked. Evan's in the hospital."

Dean was silent for a moment, then pulled the pillow off of his face and sat up, looking at his brother. "Say what?"

"Evan's in ICU at UC Davis."

Dean sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, staring down at the carpet. Sam looked at him, trying to see some kind of reaction on his brother's face. Rising from the bed, Dean grabbed his bag and began shoving his things into it. He turned and looked at his little brother. "Get your shit together Sammy. We're outta here."

Sam quickly gathered his things and the piece of paper he'd written down the address on and left the motel room behind his brother. When Sam climbed into the car, he'd barely shut the door before Dean pulled the car out of the parking spot and away from the motel. He stepped harder on the accelerator and found the nearest onramp for a highway westbound.

Sam could hear the engine revving higher as Dean pushed it faster. He glanced at his brother's white knuckles on the steering wheel, and then at his stony face.

"What were they hunting?" Dean asked as he changed lanes around a slower moving vehicle. "What happened?"

"As far as I know they weren't hunting anything," Sam said. "They were home for their sister's wedding." Sam paused. "But Evan's been going out on her own."

"Damn it," Dean muttered. "When I get my hands on her..." he trailed off the thought and stepped harder on the gas pedal.

Kit sat curled up in the chair beside her sister's bed, dozing. Her muscles were stiff, but she hadn't wanted to leave in case Evan woke up. The sun shone in through the window, warming her.

Evan struggled up through the layers of fog that surrounded her mind. She frowned when she heard the unfamiliar noises and voices in the distance. With a soft groan, she forced her eyes to open. The first thing she saw when she was able to focus was her sister's long body curled uncomfortably in the chair by the window.

Catching something out of the corner of her eye, she looked around and saw the IV stand beside her and the heart monitor beeping softly. Her frown deepened when she followed the tube of the IV down and saw them lead to her hand, and the stark white bandage holding it in. She then noticed the wide white bandages on her arms.

"What the hell?" she muttered and then reached over to pull the needle from her hand.

Kit woke at the sound of her sister's voice and immediately rose from the chair to lay her hands on her sister's to stop her from pulling the IV line out. "Evan, don't," she said softly.

"Kit what's going on?" Evan asked in confusion, looking around at the hospital room. "What am I doing in the hospital? What the hell happened?" Evan's mind began to clear and she grew agitated. She hated hospitals. Kit knew that.

"Don't you remember?" Kit asked her, sitting on the edge of the bed to look at her sister, a worried frown creasing her face.

"Remember what?" Evan stared back at her sister, confusion in her green eyes.

"Sis," Kit took Evan's wrists and turned her arms over. "You tried to kill yourself. You sliced your arms open."

"What the hell are you on?" Evan questioned, her voice rising in consternation. "I wouldn't," she trailed off as she looked down at her arms. The white bandages stood out against her skin that was pale under her tan. "Would I?"

"What do you remember?"

Evan took a shaky breath trying to recall. "I was talking to you out in the back yard. I came upstairs. I was going to take a shower. We had to go somewhere," she began, frowning as the pieces jumped around in her mind. "I went into the bathroom and," she paused. "I don't remember anything else."

"Think Evan," Kit urged her softly.

"I don't remember Kit," Evan said and then looked down at her arms, dumbfounded. "What," she began but her voice broke.

"I came in from the back yard and went upstairs. The shower was running and you were on the floor, covered in blood."

"Why do you think I did it to myself?"

"Because the razor blade was still in your hand when I found you," Kit said sadly.

"Was there something in the house?" Evan tried to remember anything unusual, but her mind was too fuzzy.

"I don't think so," Kit said.

"There had to be something. I wouldn't do something like that. You know me better than that," Evan said to her sister, catching hold of Kit's hands.

"You've been so upset lately, over you and Dean," Kit reminded her.

"And you think I'd kill myself over a guy?" Evan retorted. She let go of her sister's hands and started to move on the bed, reaching the throw the blankets off. "There has to be another explanation. Something in the house."

"Evan, calm down," Kit said worriedly. Seeing her sister thrash around, she was worried about her pulling the IV out and opening the stitches on her arms.

"Calm down? How can I calm down? You just told me that I tried to kill myself. If I did, then something in the house made me do it. We have to find it. What if it goes after Mom? Or Dad? Or Angie?" Evan said, unaware that her voice was rising as she fought to get out of the bed.

"Okay, I'll check out the house, but right now, you have to calm down!" Kit said.

Seeing the worry on her sister's face, Evan took a deep breath and sat back down on the bed. She suppressed a shudder as she sat there. She hated hospitals.

"The EMF reader is in the bag on my bedroom floor. Check the house. And be sure to check the attic," she said, her voice rising a little. Looking over her sister's shoulder, she saw the doctor walk in and she quickly shut her mouth. A frown creased her face. The tall, lanky man pasted a smile on his face when he found her looking at him.

"Hello Evan," he said quietly as he came to stand by her bedside. "I'm Dr Sebastian," he told her despite the fact that his nametag was clearly displayed. "How are you feeling this morning?" he asked, before going over her medical chart. "It seems you gave your family quite a scare," he continued before she had even answered.

"I'm fine," she muttered.

"Let's just take a listen, shall we?" An irritated look crossed her face when he fitted the stethoscope in place and motioned for her to lean forward. Evan grudgingly sat forward and then shuddered when he placed the cold stethoscope against her back.

"Breath deep please," he said and Evan did as requested. "Okay, lean back. I want to check out your heartbeat." He laid the stethoscope against her chest and listened, before nodding and pulling it away to make notes. "It's sounding a lot better."

"Gee, thanks," Evan muttered. "When can I go home?"

"I'm afraid you're going to be spending a few more days with us," he told her, the seemingly comforting smile not reaching his eyes.

"Why?" She asked him suspiciously.

"I am going to refer you to a colleague of mine, Dr. Fitzsimmons," he said. "He will be here in a few minutes."

Evan frowned. "Who is he?"

"He is the resident Psychiatrist here," Dr. Sebastian told her.

"Psychiatrist? You want me to see a shrink?" Evan demanded, her anger rising.

"It's SOP in cases like this, Sis," Kit said to her, laying her hand on Evan's hand trying to calm her down as she saw the flush enter Evan's cheeks.

"I don't need to see a shrink," Evan said sharply.

"He just wants to talk to you. That's all. Just an informal meeting, nothing to be afraid of," Dr. Sebastian said with what he must have thought was a charming smile.

"Evan, please?" Kit implored her sister.

"Just to talk?" Evan questioned them both.

"That's all," Dr. Sebastian assured her.

"Fine. But then I'm going home," she said staunchly.

Kit smiled at her sister and then rose from the bed to pick up the bag from beside the chair. "I brought you some pajamas to wear. I didn't think you would like the hospital gown."

Evan let out a pent up breath and gave her sister a weak smile. "Thanks," she said, taking the bag from her sister and then swung her legs over the bed.

"Let me take those off for you," Dr. Sebastian said before he slipped the heart monitor from her finger and shut off the machine. He then pulled the IV tube from the shunt on her hand and stepped back as she hopped off the bed and grabbed the back of her gown and made her way to the bathroom.

"This Dr. Fitzsimmons is just going to talk to her, right?" Kit questioned a few moments after Evan had closed the door.

"I just want to get to the root of why she did this to herself," Dr. Fitzsimmons said from the doorway.

Kit turned and looked at the doctor. He was a tall, slender man in his late sixties, his wide blue eyes enlarged by the glasses he wore. She was struck by the fact that he didn't wear the usual coat that a Dr. would. He seemed rather casual in a pair of pants and a sweater. "You don't look like a doctor," she said to him.

"A lot of the patients I see are not receptive to doctors to begin with. I find that if I look like just a regular person, they tend to relax," he explained, coming into the room.

"Don't count on Evan relaxing," Kit told him.

"She has been through something traumatic. I want to make her as comfortable as I can," Dr. Fitzsimmons said to Kit. "Tell me a little about your sister," he invited her.

Evan leaned back against the bathroom door and breathed deeply. She tried to push aside the tears that stung her eyes, but they spilled down her cheeks. She tried to remember what had happened, tried forcing the memories to come, but they wouldn't. She rubbed her hand over her forehead and opened her eyes. Catching sight of the bandage on her arm, she shuddered. How could this have happened?

_You did it._

"No, I wouldn't do this," she muttered aloud.

_You did. And now they all think you're crazy._

"I'm not," she said vehemently to herself. Pushing the thoughts from her mind. "And Kit doesn't think I'm crazy."

_Yes she does. She's in there telling the Doctor that now._

"Stop it," Evan with a whimper, putting the heel of her hand to her forehead and rubbing it. She shook her head and forced the voice away. Stripping out of the hospital gown, she stepped into the pajama bottoms and then slipped the matching top over her head. She dug through the overnight bag and found the brush that Kit had packed inside. Looking in the mirror, she sighed softly and leaned into it.

Her skin was way too pale. The freckles across the bridge of her nose stood out. Leaning back she ran the brush through her black hair. Evan closed her eyes for a second and when she looked back she found herself staring at her own reflection.

Quickly brushing her teeth, she pulled her hair back into a scrunchie and turned to walk out of the bathroom. When she stepped back into her room, she found that someone else had joined them. Figuring that it was the shrink they wanted her to talk to, Evan pasted a bright smile on her face.

"Evan, this is Dr. Fitzsimmons," Kit began giving her sister an encouraging smile when she saw how uncomfortable Evan looked.

"Doctor," Evan said stiffly.

"Evan, it's nice to meet you," Dr. Fitzsimmons said to her, coming over to her, his hand out.

"You too," Evan said to him, trying to keep the smile on her face as she took his hand. When her hand touched his, she suddenly felt a sharp stabbing pain down the side of her face. Images filled her head. She pulled her hand back and backed away from him. She couldn't breathe, her lungs ached from the lack of oxygen. The pain increased.

_He's not going to believe you. You're going to be just another experiment to him._

Anger filled her. She tried to push it away, but it wouldn't go.

"Evan!" Kit cried in surprise and fear as her sister whimpered and clutched at her head.

"You son of a bitch!" Evan suddenly yelled in agitation, glaring at the doctor.

"Evan," Dr. Fitzsimmons said calmly, approaching her with his hands open in front of him. "Calm down."

Evan took a step back. "Stay away from me."

Kit stared at her sister trying to understand what had just happened. One minute she was fine, but now? Now she stood before them, wild eyed like a cornered animal. "Evan, sis, please. Calm down."

"Don't let him near me," she said, her anxiety rising.

"Sis, he's here to help you," Kit explained softly.

"No he's not," her voice shook as she stared at the doctor.

"Evan, that's his job. To help you."

"Evan, I just want to talk to you," Dr. Fitzsimmons told her taking a step towards her.

_He'll lock you away._

"No! You stay away from me! You say you want to help, but you just want to lock me away," Evan screamed at him as she held up her arms and backed away from him.

"Sis, please," Kit took a step towards Evan.

_She's going to turn you over to him._

"No!" Evan shouted and then turned quickly, and ran out of the room.

"Evan!" Kit screamed, taking off after her sister.

"Orderly!" Dr. Sebastian shouted as he followed her, Dr. Fitzsimmons close behind him.

Evan ran through the hall blindly. She shoved someone out of her way, crying out as pain seared up her arms. Bursting through the door at the end of the hall, she slid to a stop and looked around frantically. Glancing behind her, she saw the orderly coming up the hall, Kit following him and the two doctors close behind.

She saw the exit sign ahead of her and made a run for it. Her feet slapped against the tile floor as she ran. She darted out of the way of the orderly coming out of the room with the gurney and heard the other orderly crash into it as she continued up the hall. She could see the light of the exit in front of her.

"Security!" The doctors yelled behind her. "Stop her!"

Evan didn't see the two security guards near the admitting desk. They heard the shouts and saw her coming. One reached out and threw his arms around her waist, her momentum knocking them both over. The guard turned and landed on his back, gripping Evan's writhing form tightly, her arms pinned in front of her, but her legs kicking wildly.

"Be careful of her arms!" Kit screamed when she saw her sister struggling.

"Let me go!" Evan screamed and kicked her legs. She threw her head back and felt a sharp pain as the back of it connected with the guard's mouth. The second guard, while keeping himself out of reach of her, grabbed her ankles and tried to still them.

Evan looked up and saw the doctors coming towards her. She saw the look of fear on her sister's face and frowned when she tried to move her arms and legs. "What the hell?" she muttered, and then looked up at the guard holding her legs and saw the anger flash across his face. She felt someone move underneath her and tried to turn enough to see behind her.

Turning her head, she saw the faces of the people in the emergency admitting area staring at her in open-mouthed amazement. Looking back at her sister, she frowned. "Kit? What's going on?"

"I wish I knew," Kit said, her voice breaking as she stared down at her sister.

"Take it easy Evan," Dr. Fitzsimmons said to her as he knelt beside her.

"Who are you?" Evan asked, looking at him in confusion.

"I'm going to take care of you," he said softly, reaching behind him. Dr. Sebastian handed him something and he turned back to her. He swabbed Evan's arm and a moment later she felt a small prick in her arm.

Frowning, Evan looked down and saw the hypodermic in his hand. Her eyes widened as she realized what he'd done. "What are you doing to me?"

"Just something to help you relax," he told her. To the orderlies beside him, he said. "Take her up to the Psychiatric Wing."

"Psychiatric? I'm not crazy!" Evan protested, but her words slurred as the drug he gave her started to take effect. She tried to focus on her sister. "Kit, please. Help me. Don't let them do this," her head started to grow fuzzy and her limbs lethargic. "Please, I don't want to go there."

"Ev-," Kit's voice broke as the orderlies lifted a docile Evan up onto the waiting gurney and strapped her down. "It'll be okay." Oh god she hoped so.

_**Chapter Seven**_

"Are you sure this is the house?" Dean asked as he stopped down the street from the large house. He looked around a little uncomfortably at the affluent houses in the neighborhood. Kit had said that they had grown up in Suburbia. This was not exactly what he'd pictured.

"This is the address Kit gave me. And there's Evan's car," Sam said, pointing to the familiar Thunderbird parked in the large driveway.

"If this is Kit's idea of Suburbia," Dean muttered and the pulled the Impala up in front of the house. Shutting off the engine, he pushed the car door open and climbed out. Slamming the car door shut, he looked over at his brother. "I think we're a little under dressed Sammy." He looked down at himself. The jeans he wore, along with the blue flannel shirt and t-shirt were clean, but had seen better days. He ran a hand over his stubbled cheeks. They had been driving for two days straight and looked a little worse for wear.

"Like you care," Sam replied and then started walking up the walkway to the front of the house. Dean looked a little ill at ease, but followed behind him. Sam waited until Dean stood beside him before ringing the doorbell. They heard a female voice inside just before the door swung open.

The petite blond woman stared at them warily for a moment before stepping a little bit behind the door, looking as the she were ready to slam it in their faces if they even moved.

"Hi, you must be Angela," Sam said in his most reassuring voice.

"And you are?" she asked them, running an eye over both of them with a touch of distaste.

"I'm Sam. This is Dean, my brother," he told her.

"We're friends of your sisters," Dean interjected.

"Sure, right," Angela said disbelievingly, moving to close the door.

"Sam?" Kit came out of the living room into the foyer. A smile broke out over her face when she saw him in the doorway. "Sam, thank god! You came!"

"You know these guys?" Angela looked at her sister, frowning.

"Of course I do!" Kit said, throwing open the door when Angela moved out of the way. Sam stepped over the threshold, catching Kit as she launched herself at him, hugging her close. She felt his arms curl around her, hugging her tightly against his tall frame. She turned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes for a moment in relief. When she opened her eyes, she saw Dean standing behind his brother in the doorway and gave him a weak smile. "Dean."

"Hey Kitty," he said with a halfhearted smile.

At the annoying endearment, Kit tried to smile but her face crumpled. She let go of Sam and took Dean into her arms. She sniffled and then stood back. "I didn't know if you'd come."

"Of course we would," Sam said to her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"How's Evan?" Dean asked, his voice gruff.

Kit looked at him with a critical eye. Beneath the scruff, his face was pale and drawn. His green eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed. She could see the muscle tick in his jaw as he clenched his teeth together. "Why don't you come in? Do you want some coffee? You look like you could use it."

Dean closed his eyes briefly and nodded. "That sounds really good."

Kit turned to take them into the kitchen and found Angie standing behind her, her arms folded over her chest a frown on her face.

"Oh, sorry Angie. This is Sam and Dean Winchester. They're friends of Evan's and mine," she said.

"I gathered that," Angie said dryly. "Do you guys know about my sisters'," she paused, "activities? For lack of a better word."

"Yes Angie, they know. Sam and Dean do the same thing as us," Kit explained.

"Great, more freaks," Angie said and threw her hands up in the air before shaking her head and walking into the living room.

"Charming," Dean said with a frown.

"She really is," Kit said, defending her sister. "She's just under a little bit of pressure right now." Kit watched her sister fling herself down onto the couch and grab a bridal magazine. "Come on. I'll get you those coffees."

Sam and Dean followed Kit up the hallway and into the kitchen where she motioned them to sit down.

"How's Evan?" Dean repeated his earlier question while Kit fiddled around with the coffee maker.

"She's out of intensive care," Kit said softly, gathering the mugs from the cupboard and bringing them over to the table. "Her heart rate and her blood pressure are normal."

"That's good," Sam said encouragingly looking at Kit with sad eyes. His heart nearly broke looking at her. She seemed so small and fragile even though he knew that she wasn't.

"What happened?" Dean cut in, his voice tight.

"She came home from a jog," she began, "we talked and then she went up to take a shower. I went up stairs and she was laying," the image flashed in her mind and made her nauseas even still and she had to stop. "She was cut with a razor blade. And no," she held up a forestalling hand when he opened his mouth. "There is nothing in the house. It's clean. We've made sure of that. And I ran the EMF meter over it since then. No spikes, nothing."

"There had to be," he began, but stopped when Kit shook her head.

"She had the blade in her hand, Dean. She did it to herself."

"I don't believe it," he said. "She wouldn't do that."

"I know Dean. You think I like believing it either?" Kit said softly. "But, she's been acting strangely for a little while now."

"Sam said she was going out on her own. How could she be so stupid?" His anger rose.

"Dean, you did it too," Sam reminded him.

"That's different Sam. That's me. This was, is, Evan."

"Ever since Louisiana she's been going out on her own, coming back bruised and bloody. She promised that she would stop cutting me out. But she's been moody, almost paranoid. She hasn't been sleeping. And she's been talking to herself."

"What do the doctors say?" Sam asked her when she came over to the table and set the mugs down before she poured them each a cup.

"They've been running tests, but the early diagnosis is that she may suffer from undifferentiated schizophrenia," Kit said with the same imperious tone that Dr. Fitzsimmons used on them the day before.

"What the hell is that?" Dean questioned her with a frown.

"It's a catch all form of schizophrenia. When the patient may have symptoms of all of the different subtypes of the disease, but they aren't sure which one is prevalent," Sam explained to his brother, shrugging when he saw Kit look at him in surprise. "High School Health class. I did a project on mental disorders."

"Wouldn't that take a while to diagnose?" Dean asked in confusion.

"Up to six months' observation," Kit said.

"I don't understand. You and Evan have been home less than two weeks. How could they have diagnosed her as schizophrenic already?" Sam asked her.

"They accelerated the diagnosis when Evan freaked out at the doctor and tried to escape the hospital. She banged up one of the guards pretty good," Kit told them, looking down at her coffee cup.

"I want to see her," Dean told her.

"Dean," Kit looked up from her coffee cup at him. "They transferred her to the psychiatric ward earlier today."

"What?" He exclaimed. "What is she doing there? She's not crazy."

"Yes she is," Angie said from the doorway. "You don't want to admit it, but she is. Always has been."

"Angie!" Kit rose from the chair and looked at her sister in disbelief. "How can you say something like that?"

"Because she's like Nan." Angie said.

"Grandma Rennie wasn't crazy," Kit told her.

"Yes she was. She had a psychotic break and that's why she was in the hospital when she died. And now Evan's the same way. She's psychotic and dangerous. I wish she'd never come home!" Angie shouted suddenly, wiping the tears from her eyes and walking out of the room.

Kit closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She opened them when she felt something take hold of her hand and looked down to see Sam's fingers curling around hers in a comforting gesture. She looked down into his soft, expressive eyes and gave him a weak smile. He stood up and curled his arm around her shoulder and pulled her shaking form against him.

"It will be okay. They'll help her," he said softly, his tone reassuring.

"I want to see her," Dean said, rising from his chair.

"Right," Kit said, wiping the sudden sting of tears from her eyes. "Yeah. I'll take you over there."

Still holding Sam's hand, Kit led them up the hallway to the door where she grabbed her satchel from the coat tree and looped it over her head. Pushing open the front door, Kit paused when she saw her parents walking up the driveway. Sam covered a smile when he heard Kit's soft groan of dismay.

"Oh Katarina, I didn't know you were expecting company," Victoria said, eyeing the two young men in her doorway with uncertainty.

"Katarina?" Edgar questioned with a frown.

"Mom, Dad, I'd like you to meet Sam Winchester and his brother, Dean."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Callum," Sam said, offering his hand. Best to start off on a good footing.

"Winchester? Any relation to the Winchester gun family?"

"I think we're fourth or fifth cousins, removed," Dean interjected and took the man's hand.

"You're friends of my daughters?"

"Subtle Dad," Kit groaned softly. "Yes, Sam and Dean are friends of ours. I called them about Evan."

"Are you going to see her?" Victoria asked them softly. Kit watched her mother eying the boys, frowning at their disheveled appearance.

"They drove straight in from New York to see her," Kit told her mother, sending her a disapproving look when her mother stopped her inspection of the two and looked at her.

"Is that where you're from?"

"Dad? Can your interrogation wait till we get back? I want to get over there before visiting hours end." Grabbing Sam's arm, Kit pulled him around her parents and down the walkway. She followed Dean without a word when she saw him head to the Impala.

"Your parents always like that?" Dean asked as he came around the car and opened the door. Kit climbed in the front seat beside him and Sam climbed into the back seat.

"They're not used to us bringing boys home," Kit smiled and slammed the door.

"You must have had a few come home with you when you were in high school," Sam smiled at her.

"A few. Just none like you two."

"What? No devilishly handsome," Dean paused as he started the engine. "Well, one devilishly handsome dude and his geek brother coming to call?" Pulling away from the curb, Dean followed Kit's directions through the neighborhood.

"We had a few. But they weren't the right ones," Kit smiled at Sam, who returned it with a dopey grin.

Dean rolled his eyes as he drove. "So Kitty," Dean began, looking around him. "This is suburbia?"

"It's a lot different than some of the places we grew up in," Sam explained, looking at the large houses, manicured lawns and the fancy cars that slid by them.

"They're a lot ritzier," Dean interjected.

"And that is your subtle way of asking why we didn't say we came from a wealthy family?"

"Kind of, yeah," Dean said without shame.

"When Evan and I left home, or rather, when I left with Evan, our parents cut us off. Said if we were going to go off on our foolish adventure, we had to get by on our own. I guess they figured we'd come home when our savings ran out."

"So that's why you and Evan take day jobs to make money," Sam surmised.

"Yeah. We decided we'd rather be broke than come groveling," Kit said and then told Dean where to turn.

A few minutes later, they pulled in the hospital parking lot and climbed out of the car. They followed Kit into the large sliding glass doors and through the corridors to the elevators. Stepping inside, she hit the button for the correct floor.

"I just want to warn you guys, she's not looking very good," Kit said to them as they stepped off of the elevator.

Dean paused behind Kit as she stopped at the nursing station to ask about her sister. Looking around, he saw the large common room at the end of the corridor and saw some of the patients milling around. As he looked over each of them, he saw differing stages of mental disorders. Each of them seemed to be suffering and many of them never going to be able to get better because there was no way to release them.

As he looked around the faces, Dean saw a familiar form sitting in a chair off by herself in the corner. Her long red hair twined almost obsessively through her fingers as she stared down at the floor. He left Sam and Kit with the nurse and walked over to her. She didn't look up when he stopped before her. He knelt down and covered her fingers with his hands, stopping their restless movements.

"Evan?" He said her name softly but she didn't look up. He reached up and took her chin between his fingers and tilted her head up to look at him. When he looked into her eyes, those green eyes that had always telegraphed her emotions, they were blank. He could see nothing in them and it sent a stab of fear down to his core.

"Do I know you?" she asked him, frowning in confusion.

"Evan, it's me," he said and couldn't fight the tears that stung his eyes. She looked so fragile. Her face was so pale, and the dark circles under eyes seemed to make her eyes look so much larger. What he wouldn't give to have the fight back in her, the cutting remarks, some spark of life.

He let go of her chin and reached out his hand to brush it across her cheek. For just a moment she looked at him, her eyes crinkling as she seemed to recall something. She then nuzzled her cheek against his fingers for just a second.

"Dean," she whispered softly. He saw a flash of something in her eye and that awareness was gone.

"That's it baby, it's me," he said gently, taking her hands. Looking down at the slender fingers laying listlessly in his, he saw the wide white bandages on her arms and nearly choked.

"Do I know you?" she asked him again.

"Oh god, Evan, what's happened to you?" Dean choked out and closed his eyes, "What did they do to her?" He demanded, turning to look up at Sam and Kit.

Sam heard his brother's voice and felt his heart squeeze in his chest when Dean turned and looked at them. The only time he had ever heard his brother give any emotion away was on the few times that he had spoken about their mother and her tragic death.

"The nurse said she had a mild outburst after my parents left. They had to give her a shot of Haldol to calm her down," Kit explained to him. She then came up beside him and knelt down before her sister. "Sis?"

Evan frowned and seemed to struggle to recall as she looked at her sister in confusion. There was a moment of recognition. "I want to go home, Kit." She said in a soft voice.

"You will Sis, but you have to let the doctors take care of you first," Kit said softly.

_She's lying to you._

Evan suddenly grabbed her head and started rubbing her temples with the palm of her hands. "Stop it, stop it, stop it. No she's not, she wouldn't," she muttered, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she began to rock slowly back and forth.

"Evan?" Dean took her head gently between his hands and stared at her, forcing her to look at him. "Evan, what is it?"

Evan stopped rocking and looked at him. "Dean?" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as though she couldn't believe he where there. She laid her hands on his and felt his warm skin under hers and a weak smile broke out over her face. "Dean," she whispered.

Dean let out a shaky breath as he looked at her. The medication gave her eyes a glassy look, but there was the small spark of something in their depths, as though she were trying to bring herself out of wherever she'd been.

"Sam?" Evan looked up and saw Sam standing by her sister. "What are you guys doing here?"

"I asked them to come," Kit told her sister. "I thought you might like to see them."

_She wants them to agree that you're crazy so you will be locked away. So she can be with him. She wants her life back. The life you took from her._

"Go away," she muttered, pushing Dean's hand away from her temples and rubbing them, curling her legs back up against her chest and rocking slowly in the chair.

"Evan?" Dean laid his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her chin up with his thumbs. He could see the fear and confusion in her eyes.

"Get away from me," she hissed and slapped his hands away. She turned angry eyes to Kit. "Why did you bring them here?"

"I thought," Kit began.

"Leave me alone! All of you," Evan rubbed her temple again and suddenly pushed herself up off the chair and started to walk away from them.

"Evan!" Dean stood up. Evan stopped and turned around to look at him. He glared at her and she glared back at him. As he walked over to her, he saw the dark flash of her eye again and he frowned. "I'm not going away."

"I don't want you here!" She suddenly shouted, drawing the attention of the other patients and staff.

"For once, Sweetheart, you're not getting your wish," he told her.

_You're going to get him killed, make him go away._

Evan rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead and pushed the voice aside. "Dean please, go away. Leave me alone!" Evan turned and ran from the room and up the hall to the room they had assigned her and slammed the door.

"Dean," Sam began, looking at Kit who shrugged at him and then followed Dean out of the common room and up the hall to Evan's room. Stopping at her room, Dean looked in through the window in the door and saw her pacing wildly. He could hear her muttering through the door as she twined her hair through her fingers and paced the length of the room.

"Dean, I know," Kit began but stopped when he put his finger to his lips and shook his head.

"Let's get out of here," he said to them and walked up the hall to the elevators.

Once inside the elevators Kit began again, "I'm so sorry, Dean. I should have warned you that she was like that. This disorder," Kit began, but Dean turned to stare at her.

"She's no more schizophrenic than I am," he told her, then paused when the doors slid open and they walked out. He kept quiet until they left the hospital. He slipped his sunglasses on and made his way to the car. "There's something else going on here. I'm not sure what, but it's not a disorder."

"Dean, man, stop and think," Sam said and then stopped when his brother turned on him.

"I am thinking, Sam," Dean retorted. "There's another explanation."

"She's my sister. Don't you think I want her to be all right too?" Kit questioned him, stopping at the car.

"I know you do, Kit," Dean took a deep breath and let it out. Seeing Evan in there rattled him, more than he cared to admit. He looked at Kit and Sam and saw them watching him. Laying his hands on the hood of the car he shook his head. "I saw something in her eyes. I don't know what it was, but it's not a mental disorder."

"I didn't see anything," Kit said to him, shaking her head.

"Are you sure you didn't see it because you want there to be something?" Sam asked his brother, trying to make his brother see logic.

"Sammy, don't use the psycho babble bullshit on me. I saw something. Whatever the hell it is, it's got her hard. And if we don't find out what it is, she _will_ go mad."

They didn't speak much on the drive back to the Callum house. Dean frowned out the windshield and thought about what he had seen, or thought he had seen, in Evan. A little part of his mind wondered if maybe Kit and Sam were right. Maybe he was seeing something there that wasn't because he wanted an explanation for what was happening to her. He wanted it to be something that he could fight.

Sam and Kit glanced at Dean and then at each other. They didn't know what to say to him, they didn't know what to think themselves. They each wondered if Dean wasn't grasping at straws, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Sam thought back to the look on his brother's face when he had looked at Evan, he knew that if his brother asked him for help, he would do everything he could. Glancing at Kit, he saw the look on her face and knew that what was happening was weighing just as heavily on her. He reached over the back of the seat and took her hand, giving it a squeeze and sent her a reassuring smile.

Kit returned his smile weakly and then glanced at Dean. Could he be right? Could he have seen something in Evan that she had missed being too close to the situation? Had there been signs of something else that she hadn't seen. Had chosen not to see because of her anger at Evan for the way she had been behaving?

Pulling up in front of the house, Sam and Dean grabbed their bags from the back seat and followed Kit into the house. Her parents were sitting in the living room with Angie and her fiancé.

"Oh Katarina, you're back. How was Evan?" Victoria asked them.

"She was a little agitated," Kit said ruefully, deciding not to go into details with her parents. She didn't want to worry them.

"Is she doing any better?" Kevin asked.

Kit glanced at him sitting beside Angie on the love seat. "A little," she lied. Although she liked the serious young man, she wasn't ready to talk to him about her sister's mental state, especially since Angie was giving her a warning look.

"Katarina, are you not going to introduce your friends?" Victoria asked her pointedly.

"Sorry. Sam and Dean, this is Angie's fiancé, Kevin Adams." Kit said idly.

"They're my sisters," Angie paused for a moment. "Co-workers."

"Oh so you work for the travel magazine also?" Kevin asked them with interest.

Dean ducked his head and coughed into his hand to cover the choked laughter at the young man's question.

"Um, yes," Sam replied. "We're, um, photographers," he lied, badly, giving Kevin a bright smile.

"They're kind of between assignments," Kit said quickly, then turned to her mother. "It's okay if Sam and Dean stay here while they visit with Evan, right?"

"Of course," Victoria said, ignoring the frown on her husbands face. "They can stay in your room. You can stay in Evan's."

Kit blanched at the thought. Being in the room reminded her how close she had been to losing her sister. She couldn't stay there. "I want to stay in my own bed. They can stay in Evan's room."

Sam and Dean followed Kit through the house to the back stairs. She took them up to the second level of the house and down the hall.

"Walk on the left of the hall," she whispered to them and they sent her a strange look. "The right side of the floor boards squeak."

"Good to know," Dean said and nudged Sam, chuckling when Sam sent him a dark look.

"This is Evan's room," Kit said as she pushed open the door.

As soon as Dean entered the bedroom he was struck by the familiar vanilla and orange scent. The room itself was pure Evan. The two intersecting walls by the large window were painted a pale cream color, the sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains. Tucked into the corner was a large antique swivel mirror, the burgundy wood polished to a high gloss. Along the wall was a matching armoire and beside it a vanity with a little bench chair in front of it.

The opposite joining walls were painted deep burgundy. The large four-poster bed was covered in a thick duvet. What struck Dean the most was the large stuffed purple and green polka dotted spider sitting in the middle of the bed. The large google eyes and dopey smile seemed so silly sitting on her bed that he had to smile. "Evan doesn't like spiders," he said softly, walking over to the bed and reached out, running his hand over the fuzzy spider.

"Nan got that for her when she was four. She had hoped that it would break her fear of them," Kit said from behind him.

Dean pushed aside the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked down at the googly eyes. He set his bag down on the bed and turned to look at Kit and Sam. "It's a lot different than some of the places we lived in as kids," Dean said and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Has anyone been in here since," he started but stopped when Kit shook her head.

"I was in once to run the EMF over the room and get some things for Evan to have at the hospital, but there was no reading. Other than that, it's been empty."

"Did you run it over the bathroom?" he asked her, thinking.

"Yes, Dean," Kit said. "I do know what I'm doing."

"I know Kit. I'm just thinking."

"I know. Look, I'm going to go down and help Mom with dinner. You guys can get settled in here," Kit said. "There are lots of towels in the bathroom if you guys want to clean up," she said, looking at the two of them. She reached up and ran her hand over Sam's stubbled cheek. She liked it when he was clean-shaven better.

"You go first Sammy," Dean said and then stood up to slide his jacket off and laid it across Evan's bed.

"The bathroom's right through there. You might want to lock the other door. It leads out to my room. I'll be downstairs," Kit said and turned to walk out of the bedroom. She stopped and turned. "Since Angie's fiancé is here, we have to dress for dinner." She then smiled brightly and walked out of the room, closing it behind her.

"Dress for dinner?" Dean questioned, looking at his brother in puzzlement.

"No t-shirts and jeans," Sam told him, dropping his bag on the bed and unzipping it.

Dean made a face. "Aw man. How did these girls come out of this family the way they are?"

Sam smiled and shook his head. He'd been wondering that himself. "Are you sure you don't want the shower first?"

"Nah, go ahead," Dean said and then waited for Sam to leave the room before he pulled the laptop from the bag and turned it on. While it was powering up, he grabbed the EMF device he'd made from one of his old walkmans and flipped the switch. A few minutes later, he growled in frustration when it stayed silent.

Kit had been right. No EMF spikes, no residual signatures. When the computer had powered up, he quickly connected to the internet and searched for the condition that Evan had been diagnosed with. As he paged through the site, he unconsciously grabbed the stuffed spider and held it in his lap while he read. He saw the similarities of her condition. His jaw clenched and he shut down the computer. There was another explanation. There had to be.

"Doing research on the area?" Sam questioned as he came back into the room, the towel wrapped around his waist.

"No," Dean said simply, snapping the computer shut. "I wanted to see what was going to happen to Evan," he said.

"Once she gets proper treatment and they find the right medication for her, she will be able to live normally."

"It's not fair Sammy," Dean said softly. "After all the good that she's done. For this to happen to her?" He shook his head.

"I thought the same thing when Kit was infected by that were in Louisiana," Sam told him.

"We have to get this thing," Dean said suddenly, rising from the bed.

"What if it's not something that we can fight? You have to face that possibility," Sam watched his brother pace the room. He had never seen his brother like this. He only hoped that Dean didn't set himself up for disappointment.

"Not an option Sammy," Dean said and tossed the spider down onto the bed. "Not an option," he repeated as he grabbed his things together and left he bedroom to go into the bathroom.

_**Chapter Eight**_

"Hello Evan," the nurse said dully as she walked into the room to check on the IV solution slowly working it way through Evan's system.

Opening her eyes as the nurse came over to her, Evan frowned at her. She lay curled up on the bed, breathing slowly trying to keep the nausea away. Her head felt muzzy as she forced her eyes to stay open. "What the hell are you giving me?" Evan demanded weakly. "It's making me sleepy."

"Brevital," the nurse answered and took Evan's wrist and laying her fingers on the pulse and looking at her watch. "It's an anesthesia. It will put you to sleep before your treatment. Didn't Dr. Fitzsimmons explain this to you when he came in?"

"He never came in here," Evan said slowly.

"He left about ten minutes ago, Evan," the nurse informed her.

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?" Evan frowned rubbing her temple, pain shooting down the side of her face. "That's not my name."

"So what is your name today?" The nurse asked in a flat voice, she didn't see the glare that came her way.

"I don't like you," she said in a petulant voice.

"Well, I'm sorry about that," the nurse said, but they both knew that she wasn't sincere.

"You can go away now," Evan told her.

"Sorry but I have to get you ready for your treatment," the nurse told her and then turned to check the IV again.

"What treatment?"

"Dr. Fitzsimmons already explained this to you," the nurse said. "You're going for Electroconvulsive Therapy."

"You're going to shock me?" Evan asked sharply. She tried to sit up and felt her head spin. "There's no way I'm doing that."

"Your parents already signed the consent form," the nurse said.

"You're lying," Evan countered.

"They did."

"No way," she groaned and sat swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She reached for the IV needle piercing her skin and pulled it out. "I know you're lying. My father is dead. He couldn't have signed anything."

"What? What are you doing?" The nurse cried in surprise as Evan hopped off of the bed. She reached for her shoulders to push her back onto the bed.

"I'm not going through that," she answered weakly, her head starting to swim again, the room spinning.

"Evan," the nurse gentled her voice but firmly pushed her down onto the bed.

"My name is Stacy!" she retorted sharply, raising her hands and pushing the nurse away. "Get away from me!"

"Evan, stop it," the nurse cried. "Orderly!" She shouted over her shoulder as she fought with Evan.

A few moments later one of the orderlies, a short, stocky man came into the room. He approached Evan cautiously while the nurse moved away from her. "Come on Evan," he said gently. "Calm down."

"Stop calling me that!" She yelled, the drug hitting her and she swayed on her feet. When the orderly came towards her, Evan grabbed the IV stand and jabbed it at him. The orderly jumped away from the end of the pole. She swung it again, but as her legs began to give way beneath her, her aim was off. In trying to catch his patient before she hit the ground, the orderly took a step towards her and caught the end of the pole with his cheek. It cut his skin and he cried in pain.

Two other orderlies came into the room at the alarm raised by the nurse. One tended the injured man, the other picked a groggy Evan off of the floor and laid her on the bed.

"Get her ready for treatment," the nurse ordered him and then turned to leave the room to get the doctor.

"You're still going to proceed?" he asked her.

"Dr. Fitzsimmons ordered the treatment. I'll tell him what happened and see if he wants to continue. Get her ready anyway." She left the room and the orderly looked down at her.

"Please don't do this to me," she mumbled. "Please."

"It's going to help you," he whispered to her as he strapped her down onto the gurney and then wheeled her out of the room.

She blinked as the fluorescent lights flicked past. Her eyes grew heavy and her body felt tingly. "No, it won't," she said. Shaking her head she tried to push away the thoughts that were slowly creeping into her mind. She frowned weakly, her thoughts becoming chaotic. She tipped her head and looked at the nurse standing beside the equipment. "No," she moaned softy, or thought she did.

"It will be okay Evan," she said, her voice seemed to come from far away. She tried to focus on her, but the nurse kept fading in and out. "This is going to help you," she was assured as a cold liquid was smeared over her temples.

"No!" She started to scream, but it trailed off into a whimper as the blackness closed around her and she fell into oblivion.

A half hour later, Dean made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. He frowned at Sam and shifted uncomfortably in the suit. Kit grinned at him and he sent her a baleful look.

"Not too bad guys," Angie said as she walked into the kitchen and took a look at him.

"I told you they cleaned up well," Kit laughed and took in the two of them in their dark suits, which she could swear were the same ones they had worn in Louisiana.

"Can we help with something?" Sam asked Kit's mother politely.

"Oh no, you're guests, go into the living room and sit with the men. The girls and I will get everything ready," Victoria answered, shooing them away.

In the living room, Kevin cornered Sam and started asking him questions about the different travels they had been on.

"How long have you and your brother known my daughters?" Edgar questioned Dean suddenly.

Dean thought back to when they had first met the girls. "About six months," he answered.

"And you just dropped everything to come out here to see Evangeline?"

Dean had to smile at the use of Evan's full name. He couldn't see her as Evangeline. Looking at Edgar, he pushed aside the smile and answered quite honestly. "Evan is," he paused. "Very special."

"She is to me also," Edgar said with a warning tone.

Dean was saved from answering when Victoria came to the doorway and announced that dinner was ready. Rising to their feet, Dean and Sam followed Edgar and Kevin into the formal dining room where the table had been set with fine china plates, crystal glasses and a multitude of silverware. He sent an uncomfortable look at his brother and found that Sam had the same expression on his face. They were definitely out of their league.

Sam came around the table and pulled the chair out for Kit and she sent him a smile as she sat down.

"Thank you Sam," she said and then smiled at him.

Sam pulled out the chair beside her and settled himself down. Dean sat across from him and sent him another uncomfortable look.

When Edgar wheeled the antique brass serving trolley out from the kitchen and Dean saw the silver covered dishes on it, he had a sinking feeling that this was not going to be an easy night.

"Mr. and Mrs. Callum, I just wanted you both to know how much I appreciate you inviting me. I've brought something special," Kevin said and picked up a gaily-wrapped bag from the floor and set it on the table in front of Edgar.

Eyeing the bag, Edgar untied the strings and pulled out the bottle. Reading the label, Edgar smiled and looked at Kevin. "Why son, where did you find it?"

Kevin gave a negligent shrug of his shoulders. "I have some connections."

"What is it dear?" Victoria asked as she lifted plates from the trolley and made her way around the table, setting them in front of everyone.

"A bottle of Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc 2004. They are next to impossible to find," Edgar told Victoria, who smiled at Kevin.

Kit looked up at Sam and Dean from under he lashes and saw the look of confusion on their faces. She frowned slightly at the extravagant gift, and judging by the look on Sam and Dean's faces, they had no idea how to react.

"That's from New Zealand, isn't it?" Kit asked Kevin idly.

"Yes, it is. The New Zealand wines are gaining a lot of attention these days," he explained, trying to impress her with his knowledge.

"A lot of connoisseurs frown on New Zealand wines. They think they're too new," Kit added.

"Yes, but they did the same to our own California wines, and look how far they have come," Kevin answered back.

"I look forward to trying this very much Kevin, thank you," Edgar said and then poured a glass for everyone.

Dean didn't think there was anything special about the wine when he sipped it, but with everyone raving about it, he decided to go along with it even though he could really have gone for a nice cold beer.

"I thought I'd try something new. A recipe that the doctor gave me to help lower your father's cholesterol," Victoria said with a fond smile at her husband.

"This ought to be good," Edgar groused.

"Aw Daddy, it won't be that bad. Besides, I could stand to lose a few pounds. I want to be able to fit into my dress," Angie smiled and patted her father's hand.

The evening went from bad to worse. When Dean lifted the small silver lid off the plate and found crab salad with baby greens and lemon staring at him, he found himself suddenly craving a big thick steak. He glanced at Sam and knew that his brother was wishing for the same thing. When the next course turned out to be pea soup, Dean found himself remembering The Exorcist, but he choked it down.

He had thought that he might make it through the rest of dinner, until Victoria brought out fish, sautéed red snapper with lemon asparagus puree, she explained proudly. His stomach turned sharply. He wasn't a big fan of fish.

Sam saw the look on his brother's face and hid his smile. He had taken Jess out for a fancy dinner like this one time for her birthday. It had cost him a week's pay from his part time job, but it had been worth it. He felt a little more comfortable, but he knew that he was still out of his league. But he didn't think that Dean had ever been exposed to anything like this. It just hadn't been in their upbringing.

When Victoria brought out desert, lemon shortcakes with strawberries, Dean glanced around awkwardly.

"Is something wrong, Dean?" Victoria asked him.

Dean floundered. "Um," he tried to come up with a way to say it so she wouldn't be upset. He lowered his voice. "I'm allergic to strawberries."

"Oh, Dear, is that all? I'll be happy to get you something else. I picked up some chocolate gelato because I knew that it's Katarina's favorite."

"Um, actually Mom? Chocolate gelato is Angie's favorite. I always liked boysenberry sorbet."

"I thought Evangeline's favorite was boysenberry," Victoria paused.

"Evan doesn't like sorbet or gelato. She's an ice cream girl. Chocolate chip cookie dough."

"You girls have to come home more often," Victoria said and then went into the kitchen to get Dean a dish of the chocolate gelato.

Other than the gelato, which Dean didn't want to admit was actually really good, the only thing that Dean really enjoyed was the coffee that they sipped on afterwards. And that was mainly due to the fact that had been liberally laced with Bailey's Irish Cream and Frangelico.

They moved back into the living room after dinner and spent next few hours chatting about the mundane things, none of them wanting to bring up the subject that was foremost in their minds; Evan.

When Kevin bid them farewell, Dean had hoped to make a quick escape upstairs and out of the monkey suit, but it was not meant to be. He had tuned out their voices for a little while, lost in his own thoughts until he heard Sam chuckle.

"Believe me, when the dude who's six foot five is running away from something? You know it's one scary motherf-," Kit started, but was cut off by her mother.

"Katarina Elizabeth Taylor Callum! Language, please. Honestly, you and your sister have been away for too long. You've forgotten how to be a lady," Victoria said.

"Elizabeth Taylor?" Sam chuckled and then laughed at the look Kit gave him.

"It was the eyes," she said with a smile and gave him a body check to the shoulder.

"How can you so blithely laugh about things like that?" Angie asked her sharply.

"Because sometimes Ange, if I don't laugh about it, then I get scared. Getting scared gets you dead," Kit retorted. "I know you don't believe in what Evan and I face everyday, but it's what we do."

"What are you going to do now? With Evan in the Psych ward?" Angie asked and Dean looked at her sharply.

"I'll deal with that later," Kit said firmly, but Sam could see the sadness in her eyes and reached over and took her hand.

"Well I don't know about you kids, but I think I am going to retire for the night," Victoria said as she rose from her chair.

"I think I might go too. Sam and I have done a lot of driving over the past few days," Dean said and rose from his chair.

"I'll be up in a few minutes, dear," Edgar said to his wife and looked at Sam and Kit meaningfully.

"That's Dad's way of saying that he's going to chaperone us," Kit smiled and whispered loudly at Sam. "But I'm going to be off too. I want to go over and see Evan again tomorrow and I want to get there early," she said to him.

Dean went upstairs to Evan's room. As quickly as he could, he pulled off the suit coat and tie and the dress shirt, laying them over the bench in front of Evan's vanity. Rooting through his bag, he found his black t-shirt and pulled it on. He quickly stripped out of the dress pants and tossed them onto the bench seat also.

"Good night Dad," Kit said softly and then looked up at Sam. She could see her father out of the corner of her eye as he stood in the doorway to his bedroom, his arms folded across his chest, waiting for her to go to her room.

Leaning up on her toes, Kit kissed Sam's cheek quickly and then smiled. "See you tomorrow, Sam," she said and then went up the hall to her bedroom. She shut the door behind her and Sam went into Evan's room and shut the door.

"Kind of a wimpy good night kiss," Dean said as he sat on Evan's bed.

"Yeah, well, we had an audience," Sam said as he stripped out of the suit.

"Tell me again why living in suburbia with the hard to find wines and whatever it was that we ate tonight is better than the places that we grew up in?"

"That was pretty bad, wasn't it?" Sam said in a low voice. He didn't want to offend their hosts, but tonight had not ranked high on his list of fun times.

"Growing up in this kind of life, what would make them chuck it all and hunt demons and ghosts? We didn't have much of a choice. They did."

"I don't know. Character of the person I guess. If Mom hadn't died, we might have grown up, not exactly like this, but we would have had a more stable home life. We would have been different people."

Dean shook his head. Too many deep thoughts for right now. Rising from the bed, he turned the duvet down and smiled slightly when he saw the cream colored satin sheets. They were cool against his skin when he slid in and the scent of her floated around him. When Sam came over to the side of the bed and started to lift the covers, Dean looked up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Going to bed," Sam looked at him in confusion.

"Your girlfriend is waiting for you," Dean told him.

"And her parents are right down the hall."

"Sammy, you have so much to learn about women," he shook his head. "Why do you think Kit told us about the squeaky floorboards and the adjoining bathroom? Keep to the left or go through the bathroom and they won't hear you."

"Dean, I can't. Not in her parents' house."

Propping himself up onto his elbow Dean looked at his brother. "Sammy, we just drove for two days straight and I'm tired, so don't argue with me. Kit needs you and I am not getting kept up by you snoring all night."

"But," Sam began.

"Get going, Sam. One of us should get to see their girl tonight," Dean sighed and rolled over onto his other side and tucked one hand beneath the satin covered pillow. Seeing the large fuzzy spider sitting on the pillow, staring at him with the big googly eyes, he reached out and pulled it against his chest as he curled up in the bed, Evan's scent filling his senses.

Sam paused for a moment at his brother's words and wanted to say something, but Dean had already lain back down, already assuming that he was going. With a shrug, he dropped the covers and moved around the bed. He opened the door to the bathroom slowly, crossing the room quietly to Kit's door. He opened it just as quietly and entered, where he found her sitting on the edge of her bed brushing her hair.

Closing the door, he looked around and found that there was so much of the girl before him in the room that he felt almost overwhelmed. The large sleigh bed was covered in a blue denim looking comforter and a multitude of pillows with dark blue and sunny yellow pillow cases. One wall was dominated by a large corkboard stuck with pictures of family, friends and different memorabilia. Framing each side of it were shelves that she had filled with sports trophies and other knick-knacks. He smiled when he saw a picture of Evan and Kit when they were little girls going toe to toe beside a pool.

"Just after that picture was taken, we pushed each other into the water," Kit said as she crossed the room. "I was wondering if you'd come."

"Well, you sounded frantic on the phone," he began as he quietly shut the door behind himself.

She smiled. "Sam, I meant here. Now."

"I kind of had no choice, Dean kicked me out of the room," Sam grinned.

"Smart man, remind me to thank him tomorrow," she laughed.

Sam looked down at her. For weeks he had dreamed of nothing but touching her, tasting her once again. Losing himself in her, but he didn't know if he could. They weren't here under the best of circumstances.

"What's wrong?" Kit tilted her head to the side and looked at him.

"I don't know if I should be here," he told her honestly. "With all that's going on right now," he trailed off.

Kit laid her hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat under her fingers. "With everything that's going on right now,_ this _is exactly where you should be," she said softly and raised herself up on her toes, pressing her mouth against his. She flicked the tip of her tongue around the inside of his lips before sliding it deeper into his mouth.

She couldn't form the words to what she wanted to say. How could you tell someone how much you missed him, needed him, when every word that you could think of paled in comparison to what you felt?

Kit did the only thing she knew what to do. She wound her arms around his shoulders, sliding her fingers into his hair and brought his mouth down harder against hers. Pressing her body tightly against him, she slid one foot up the outside of his leg and hooked her calf around his leg, pulling him closer. She could feel the roughness of his jeans rub against her delicate skin and groaned into his mouth.

Growling in frustration, Sam slipped his hands around her waist and cupped her buttocks, dragging her body up against him. When she wrapped her legs around his hips, he gripped her tightly. Desire flared, consuming him as the need for her that had been growing over the last few weeks came to a head. Their conversations had only served to hone the craving, instead of quenching it.

Kit tightened her legs around him and leaned back. She grasped the hem of her nightshirt and pulled it up over her head. Sam breathed in sharply as she was exposed to him. He took her mouth again and one hand slid up to cup one breast, catching the hard peak between his fingers and rolling it gently. At her soft murmur of pleasure, he grasped it a little harder and heard her whimper, but her kiss grew bolder from it. She darted her tongue into his mouth and wound sinuously around his. The flavor of her mouth sharpened, spicy and sweet, and made him crave more.

Kit laid her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, but when he let go of her and took both of her nipples between his long fingers, she trembled. Her legs tightened around his hips. The heat of his mouth seemed to burn into her. She could feel every nerve ending within her suddenly wake and torment her. Her heart pounded in her chest and her blood rushed past her ears. She gripped him tighter, her nails leaving small indentations in his skin. Feeling the muscles work under his shirt, she whimpered.

Rocking her hips slowly against him, she could feel the growing hardness of him just behind the button fly of his jeans, only a few layers of material keeping her from him. Pulling his mouth free of hers, Sam nuzzled his mouth against the side of her neck, feeling her heart pounding against his lips. She shivered as his mouth ran along the underside of her jaw and down the side of her neck. She could feel the warmth of his breath, the scrape of his teeth.

"God Sam, I missed you so much," she said roughly, desire catching at her words.

"You won't have to again Kit, I won't leave you again," Sam said before gently nuzzling his lips at her throat, biting at the sensitive skin at her neck and shoulder. He slowly teased his tongue over the small mark he left, easing the sting of the bite.

She whispered something as her body flared to life, but even she couldn't make it out. The blood burning through her veins was almost painful, catching her breath in her throat. When Sam buried his hands in her hair and drew her head back to press mingled kisses and nips along the underside of her jaw, Kit shuddered against him.

Sam lifted his head and looked down into Kit's face, saw the way her eyes had darkened and knew that she felt the same, overwhelming desire to be together that he did. He traced the tip of his tongue at her bottom lip before dipping his head to catch it between his teeth, biting, and then sucking it into his mouth. His large hands slid down from her hair and over her shoulders, his thumbs grazing over the sides of her full breasts, then down to grip her waist.

Kit reached one hand down to slip between their bodies and worked the first few buttons of his jeans open. She slid her fingers inside and worked them down into his boxer briefs. Her fingers curled around the warm, thick shaft of him and she heard his low growl of approval. She began stroking him, shifting her body slightly to give herself some room. Tightening her hold on him, she rubbed the pad of her thumb over the head and Sam thought his knees were going to give way beneath him. The pleasure he felt at her touch was like nothing he had ever experienced.

On legs that could barely support them, Sam walked back towards the bed. Kit's legs dropped from around his hips and she stood before him. Taking his shoulders, she moved around him and pushed him backwards, tripping him with one foot so he fell back onto her bed. Standing before him, she smiled and he could almost see the thoughts that were running around in her mind. She climbed up onto the bed, straddling his thighs as she reached down to finish undoing his jeans. Pushing the front of them open, she drew the ridged length of him out of his jeans and curled her fingers around him again. Sam's eyes slid shut as he felt the tightness of her fingers surround him, tease him. When he went to reach for her hips, she lightly smacked his hands.

"Keep your hands to yourself," she ordered him with a smile. Stretching out over him, she whispered in his ear. "I'm in charge here."

"For now," he told her.

Kit gave him a devious smile and stroked the length of his cock slowly, and nipped at his earlobe. Sam hissed sharply and closed his eyes. He groaned when her teeth captured the skin of his neck and he could feel the tip of her tongue flick over his skin. He reached up then and grabbed her hips, holding her as his body spasmed from the pain and pleasure of it.

When she let go of him, Sam felt a stab of disappointment, until he felt her fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. He reached down and sat up just enough to pull it over his head and toss it aside. When he lay back down on the bed, Kit laid her hands on his shoulders and pressed a trail of biting kisses down the side of his neck and over his chest. Sam shivered and burned as he felt her teeth, and the hard points of her nipples drag across his skin. He tipped his head back and groaned softly.

"Not too loud Sammy," she cautioned with a laugh and he clamped his mouth shut.

Sitting up, Kit dragged her fingernails lightly over the muscles of his abdomen, watching as they reacted under her touch, and heard his sharp breath. She lowered her mouth down to tease at the skin of his abdomen, tracing the marks she had left with her nails with the tip of her tongue. Looking up at him under lowered lashes, she dipped her mouth lower and lightly brushed her lips over his aching cock. Sam jerked his lips suddenly and groaned sharply. Kit teased the tip of her tongue around the head and he clenched his jaw shut tightly. He thought he was going to explode when she engulfed the head in her warm, wet mouth. Her teeth scraped lightly over the tip and his hips jerked harder.

"Christ, Kit," he gritted out, his voice disintegrating to incoherent sounds as she slowly moved her mouth over the length of him, the pressure an almost unbearable pleasure.

Kit could hear the sounds he was reduced to and felt a stab of power that she could bring someone as big and contained as Sam to the edge. Her fingers curled around the base of him, stroking upwards as her mouth moved over him and she could feel the trembling of his body beneath her.

Releasing him, she could hear the disappointment mixed with the relief as he opened his eyes and looked at her. She moved and straddled his hips, settling down against him, the length of him slipping between her damp lips. He groaned as she rocked her hips slightly and he heard her own soft moan of pleasure. Reaching up, he cupped her full breasts and rubbed the pads of his thumbs against the hard buds of her nipples. God, her skin felt like silk, he thought to himself.

He smiled darkly at Kit's whimper of delight. Her back arched against his hands and he caught the peaks between his fingers and rolled them. Her whimper grew louder and he could feel her shudder. Kit opened her mouth to say something, but was robbed of speech as Sam pinched her nipples harder. The low growl that slipped past her lips was about all the words that she could form.

Her blood screamed through her veins, as the deep ache grew between her legs. He abandoned her nipples to grasp at her hips, sitting up he buried his mouth against the side of her neck, his hands still holding her hips as he pulled her tight against him. He then turned quickly and swept her under him. Curling over her, Sam took her wrists and pulled her hands up to pin them to the mattress at the sides of her head.

"Told you," he whispered roughly before taking her mouth in a harsh kiss.

Stretching, Sam released her hands and buried his fingers in the soft strands of her hair, tugging her head back. His tongue darted into her mouth, sliding around hers. Kit responded boldly. Her tongue matched the erotic twining of his. Bringing her hands down, she worked them between their bodies. Sam's body jerked as the tips of her fingers touched the hard shaft of his erection.

Propping himself up onto his elbows, he raised his hips a little looking down at Kit's face as she curled her fingers around him. He groaned and closed his eyes as she stroked the length of him. "Oh God, Kit," he whispered and Kit smirked at the look on his face.

With her other hand, she pushed his pants down over his buttocks. Feeling what she was doing, Sam pushed himself up off of her and quickly stripped out of his pants. He saw Kit's eyebrow quirk at the sight of his nude body bathed in the light of the moon and heard her low purr of feminine approval. He moved between her legs and slid his hands under her them, lifting her hips up onto his thighs. Leaning down, he gave a nip at the hard peak of her breast causing Kit to breath in sharply.

Pulling her up higher on his thighs he pressed the tip of his erection lightly against her, dragged it down her damp lips. He could feel the heat of her wetness clinging to his skin and he groaned. He rubbed the tip along her lips, feeling her hips squirm beneath him.

"Sam," came the throaty growl and she pushed her hips up, rubbing harder against him. A shudder ran through him as the heat of her lips engulfed him. Sliding down to the entrance to her body, he pressed the head against her and pushed in. Kit gasped and grabbed at his forearms, her body tightening as she could feel herself stretching around him.

Sam gasped as he slowly pushed deeper inside of her. He could feel her muscles tighten around him and a wave of craving washed over him. He'd missed the feel of her body around him more than he'd realized. Taking a deep breath, he pulled free of her and then thrust hard, filling her. Kit groaned and clenched her eyes tightly as Sam began to thrust into her, her body moving with him. She bit her bottom lip, trying not to cry out from the pleasure, but it grew within her so intensely.

Sliding her hands up his arms, she curled her fingers around the back of his neck, drawing him down to her. Pressing her lips against his roughly, she groaned into his mouth. Sam could feel her groan arrow through him, driving him faster into her. Their bodies met hard and he tensed, not wanting to hurt her, but driven on by her groans. Kissing him deeply, Kit rocked her body harder against him. She could feel the length of him inside of her move slowly, and stabs of pleasure raced through her. She groaned into his mouth, shuddering. Pushing her hips harder up against him, she felt him tighten above her.

Sam tore his mouth away from hers and buried it against her neck, groaning as her body spasmed around him, the feel of her slick heat surrounding him were playing havoc with his senses. He wanted more. The feel of her was almost overwhelming. "Christ!" he growled roughly.

Sinking her fingers into his hair, Kit began to rock her entire body beneath him. Letting go of her thighs, Sam braced himself with his hands on either side of her head and moved faster, his breath came in short, hard pants. His fingers dug into the sheets as their bodies rode the wave of pleasure. Kit wrapped her legs tight around the back of his thighs, pulling him harder against her.

Biting at her shoulder Sam suddenly rolled them over, pulling Kit above him. She rose up, arching her back, rocking her hips quickly against him. She laid her hands on his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin. Looking up at her, Sam could see the pleasure on her face as the sensations of the new position filled her.

Kit ground against him, her breath coming faster. Her skin tingled almost painfully as her blood seared through her veins. Sam hissed in pained pleasure and bucked his hips up against her. Looking down at him, Kit pushed herself harder against him, shuddering as his hands slid up her arms and then down to cup her breasts, the pads of this thumbs rubbing over the sensitive nipples. Kit tipped her head back and let the deep groan that was curling up in her throat. The sensations that filled her were more than she could bear. Pleasure, heat, longing and a dark craving drove her faster.

"God, Kit, yes," Sam tried to stifle his groan as he grasped her hips, pulling her down onto him. Kit clamped her mouth closed and whimpered as every nerve ending within her flared to life. "Shhh," Sam whispered urgently.

Kit bit down harder, a shudder ripping through her tense body causing to her give a strangled cry. Her fingers dug harder into Sam's chest. She held on as he continued to thrust into her, the shudders increasing.

Sam suddenly grabbed her arms and pulled her down towards him. He buried his hands in her hair and held her head as he took her mouth in a rough kiss, crying his release into her mouth.

Kit shuddered, holding him tightly inside of her body. Sam smiled against her mouth and then moved his hands up her back to circle around her, pulling her down against his chest. Kit laid her head down on his shoulder, smiling as she heard his ragged breathing and the wild beat of his heart under her hand.

"You're going to get us into trouble,' he said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, **I'm** going to get us into trouble," she retorted.

_**Chapter Nine**_

Early the next morning, Sam quietly opened the bedroom door and slipped in. He paused in the doorway and looked at his brother sound asleep and stretched across the bed. He grinned at the stuffed spider curled against his chest and shook his head. The grin turned to a smirk as walked carefully over to the bed and picked up the bookmark from Evan's beside table.

Dangling the long, fuzzy tassel against the end of his brother's nose, he stifled a laugh as Dean's face scrunched up for a moment in his sleep. He lowered it again and danced it over his mouth and nose, the fuzz from the tail tickling his brother. Dean suddenly swatted at his face and sat up abruptly trying to wipe away whatever was crawling on him. Sam burst into laughter at the look on his brother's face.

"Dude, that wasn't cool. I was dreaming about spiders all night long," he said irritably and then looked at the stuffed animal clutched to his chest. With an annoyed growl, he tossed the fuzzy spider to the side and looked up at his little brother. "Not one word," Dean warned and threw the covers off of the bed. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and scrubbed his hands over his face. "What time is it?"

"Little after seven," Sam told him as he started to dig through his bag.

"What are you doing back?"

"Kit said her parents get up at eight," Sam explained.

"Have a good night?" Dean asked with a smirk.

"I'm not discussing that with you," Sam told him firmly. "Kit's going down to make coffee."

"Now that I could do with," Dean said and rose from the bed. As an afterthought, he turned back and quickly made the bed, setting the spider back where he'd found it. He turned and found his brother staring at him in surprise. "Don't start."

They changed quickly and went down to the kitchen where they found Kit setting mugs on the table. "Morning guys," she said cheerfully, a smile on her face.

"Morning, Kitty," Dean said as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

Kit quirked an eyebrow at him, but didn't reprimand him. Instead she picked up the coffee pot and poured them each a mug and then set the pot back on the maker. She went to the cupboard and brought down some bowls and dug in one of the drawers for some spoons. Setting them down on the table, she reached into the lower cabinet and brought out the large box of Lucky Charms cereal.

"Oh, my favorite," Sam said as she set the box on the table.

"Evan and I used to fight so much over the box when we were kids that my mother used to get us each one," Kit said grinning, then stopped, a wave of sadness coming over her. She pushed it aside and reached into the fridge to get the pitcher of milk.

"It'll be okay Kit," Sam told her softly, taking her hand when she sat down at the table.

Dean grabbed the box of cereal and poured Kit a bowl. "We'll figure this out." Not wanting to shatter Dean's illusion, Kit just smiled at him and poured the milk for each of them. "What are the visiting hours at the hospital?" Dean asked a few minutes later.

"Ten thirty," Kit told him, before rising to put their empty bowls in the dishwasher.

Dean tilted the chair back on two legs and scrubbed his hands through his hair. Four hours.

"Please don't tilt back on the chairs like that Dean, you may fall and hurt yourself," Victoria said as she breezed into the kitchen and nudged his shoulder pushing him forward onto all four legs of the chair.

Dean gave her a startled look and he heard Kit and Sam chuckle at her gentle order. "Sorry, Mrs. Callum," he said and adjusted on the chair.

"Did you boys sleep well?" She asked them, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"Yes Ma'am, thank you," Sam interjected and Kit turned her face down to stare at her coffee, a grin on her face as her cheeks reddened.

"Are you going to go see Evangeline this morning?" she asked them, sitting down at the table across from her daughter.

"As soon as visiting hours start," Kit told her mom.

"I didn't have the opportunity to tell you boys yesterday that I am glad that you came to see Evangeline. I'm sure that having everyone she cares about around her is going to help her recover faster."

"I'm sure it will Mrs. Callum," Sam said softly.

"Well, I should go make sure that your father's awake. He has an appointment this morning, and we have a meeting with Dr. Fitzsimmons this afternoon at two," Victoria told them as she rose from the table. "Oh and Samuel, you may want to cover the bite mark on your neck before Katarina's father sees it," she gave her daughter and Sam a knowing look and then walked out of the room.

Dean looked at the expressions on Sam and Kit's face and burst out laughing.

"I missed that," Kit said softly, glaring at Dean when he continued to laugh.

The sun streamed in through the window and warmed Evan's skin as she stared idly out of the window. She twined the ends of one thick braid through her fingers and rubbed her temple slowly with the other. She curled her legs up under her and laid her head back against the chair, breathing deeply and trying to push aside the thoughts that had been plaguing her.

She had woken up during the night to the whispers in her head and they had not let her go back to sleep. Memories of the past flashed through her head, but they confused her. She couldn't recall some of the memories that flitted through her mind.

She had tried to get out of bed and pace, but had found herself strapped to the bed. She'd let out a frustrated growl and tried to wiggle herself free, but to no avail. She groaned softly as every muscle in her body began to protest the movements and she began to wonder what the hell had happened to her the night before.

"I'm really getting sick of his," she groused at herself.

When the nurse had come in later to administer her medication, she unstrapped Evan and then left the little cup of pills on the dining tray, stepping back from her. Evan had heard the nurses talking the night before and found that she had been labeled as a high-risk patient. She had taken the pills that the nurse had brought and patiently showed her that she had swallowed them.

As soon as the nurse left, Evan went into the bathroom and although she hated to do it, she made herself sick, ridding herself of the pills. They made her nauseous and forgetful, and she didn't want to forget anymore. She needed to remember what was happening to her.

The nurse came back a little while later with her breakfast and told her that Kit and two men had been there to see her the day before, but she could only remember vague little pieces from the day before and it frustrated her. There was something else nagging at her mind, if she could only remember it.

He hated hospitals. Always had and probably always would. But Dean had needed to get away from the Callum house. The somewhat dark looks that Angie had been sending them were beginning to irritate him. Kit's parents had left, so Dean thought he would give Sam and Kit some time to be together. He had made an excuse to get away from the house and went out for a drive and found himself heading towards the hospital.

Now, he paused in the doorway, a frown tugging at his features at the sight of the empty bed. It deepened when he saw the leather straps on the rails of it. His hand clenched around the cellophane wrapped stems of the flowers that he had stopped and picked up.

Glancing around the room, he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Evan sitting by the window in the large hospital chair. He watched as her fingers twiddled idly with one long red strand of hair like it had become a nervous habit. One leg was drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on her knee. Her other hand tapped out a rhythm on her shin. He saw the IV needle taped to the top of her hand and for the first time, saw the IV stand beside the chair, the bag of clear fluid hanging from it.

She turned her head and looked at him blankly for a moment and Dean wondered if she remembered him. "You can come in. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not dangerous," she said softly, turning her head to look at him. "At least I don't think I am." A confused look came over her face.

Dean came into the room and sat on the chair across from her, and he handed her the flowers. His heart twisted in his chest when she sent him a watery smile and reached out to take the flowers.

"I must be insane if you're bringing me flowers," she said, trying to make light of it.

"Sam told me to bring them," he said idly.

"Jerk. Ruin a perfectly good gesture," she said softly and smiled weakly. "The nurses said there had been two young men here yesterday and one of them was cute. She must have been talking about Sam," she continued, but he found that it lacked her usual bite.

He looked at her intently. She was impossibly pale, which made her green eyes seem larger in her face. "Do you remember us being here yesterday?"

Evan shook her head slowly. "No. Not really. I remember little pieces. I was hoping it wasn't true. I didn't want you here."

"Why?" Dean questioned her, a little confused and a little angry.

"I didn't want you to see me," she said, her voice small as she closed her eyes and laid her cheek on her knee, turning her gaze out the window away from him. She didn't want him to see the tears that were starting to well up in her eyes. "Why did you come?"

"To kick your ass," he retorted. He didn't want to tell her that when Sam told him that she was in the ICU he hadn't cared about anything else but getting to her. He'd broken every speed limit from New York to California to get to her.

"Like you could," she said slowly. She was trying to fight the medication. She'd gotten rid of the pills earlier, but the IV drip that she was hooked up to was making her listless and would start to make her sleepy soon.

"What have they got you on?"

Evan waved her hand. "No idea."

Dean rose from the chair and walked over to her bed and picked up the chart hanging on the end of it. Looking at the chart, his eyes widened. "That's a pretty heavy anti-psychotic," he said.

"Yeah well, I spit that one out when she gave it to me this morning. It makes me sick. But this," she said, flopping her hand. "This is something called Brevital. It's supposed to put me to sleep. They want to keep me docile. I guess they're afraid for their orderlies and security guards. Apparently, I attacked one of them last night."

"Kit said you hit the security guard pretty bad trying to escape," Dean told her, then regretted it when she took a shaky breath and her eyes watered. "He's going to be okay. But you took out an orderly too?"

"I don't remember doing it. He was apparently coming to get me for my treatment last night," she whispered, and her voice cracked. "I don't remember hitting the guard. I don't remember you being here yesterday but apparently I cussed you out. And I don't remember doing this!" She said in agitation, showing him her arms.

"Evan," Dean sat on the chair across from her and looked at her intently, "Did you take anything before you did that?" He asked her, pointing to her arms.

She sent him a dark look. "No. I'm not on drugs Dean. I came home from a jog, talked to Kit and went up to take a shower. That's it. That's all I remember. The next thing I know, I'm here and being told I tried to commit suicide."

"Do you remember anything else?" Dean asked her intently. Looking at the sudden look of uncertainty that crossed her face, he knew that there was something else going on, but he didn't want it be said that he led her answers. "What is it?"

"You're not going to believe me," she said to him. "No one does."

"Try me," he invited.

"I've seen things. And heard things," she said softly.

"What kind of things?"

"Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I don't see me. I see someone else. And I've heard whispering. It's like it's my sub-conscious, but it doesn't feel right," she looked at him and when she saw the expression on his face, she threw her hands up. "That's it, I've lost it. Even you think I'm crazy."

"Honey, I've always thought you were crazy," he said with a cocky smile and then turned serious. "Evan, I believe you."

She looked almost relieved. Hearing footsteps coming up the hall, Evan looked at Dean and then gave him a warning look and let her gaze go blank. Dean frowned at her but then looked up as the nurse came into the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize Evan had a visitor," the young nurse said with a bright smile. She looked at Dean and he could see the familiar gleam in her eye.

Evan forced herself to remain blank, even though she felt a stab of jealousy run through her. "I just came to check on Evan before her treatment."

"Treatment?" Dean questioned and looked at Evan. He frowned when he saw her fingers stiffen around her shin.

"Electroconvulsive Therapy," the nurse said brightly. "Dr. Fitzsimmons has had wonderful results with it. Evan will be well on her way to recovery."

"Has she been responding to them yet?" Dean questioned the nurse.

"Well, her first treatment was last night," she told him. "It will take a few sessions for the benefits to be noticeable, but I am sure that Evan will start showing improvement soon," she gave Dean one last look before walking over and checking the IV drip in Evan's hand and then smiled down at her. "I'll leave you to your visit, but I am going to ask that you cut it short. We will have to come and get Evan in a little while."

"Sure, no problem," Dean said and then waited for her to leave the room before turning on Evan. "If I'd known you liked getting shocked so much, I would have let the Sheriff tazer you a few more times."

She sent him another dark look. "It's not high on my list of ways to spend an evening you jerk," she retorted and Dean saw the familiar spark in her eye.

"How could you consent to it then?"

"I didn't," she said slowly. The Brevital, meant to put her to sleep was starting to work on her. "My parents signed the consent form for the treatment."

"And you had one last night?" He paled when he thought of it. Remembering how it felt when he'd accidentally electrocuted himself and what had happened to him afterwards. "Oh god Evan."

"I was asleep through it," she said, suddenly worried about the look on his face. "But it explains why I'm sore today," she grimaced.

"How could they do that to you?"

"They want me normal again. Dr. Fitzsimmons must have convinced them that this would work. But he just wants to keep up his experiments," she said, then stopped. Where had that come from? She rubbed her temple as the whispering started in the back of her mind.

Dean looked down at her and saw the flash in her eyes. It was the same one from the day before. He kneeled down before her and cupped her cheek in his hand, tipping her head up to look at him. "Evan, focus on me."

Evan grimaced and closed her eyes. The whispers were getting louder. "Dean," she whimpered painfully.

"Evan, concentrate. Push it out," he told her urgently.

"I can't, it's the drugs," she said suddenly rubbing her temples. "Whenever I take the medication they give me, I can't concentrate. That's why I got rid of them this morning. I need to know what is going on with me," she said to him, taking a deep breath and pushing the voices aside. Looking up at him, she said softly. "Dean, please. Help me."

Dean's heart caught in his throat. She sounded so small, so helpless. He reached out and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into his arms and held her tight. He laid his cheek on the top of her head and sighed. "We've got to get you out of here."

"How?" Evan asked him slowly and leaned back in his arms, her head lolling to the side a little. "In case haven't noticed, this is a psych ward. They don't let the crazies out without a leash."

"Okay plan girl, come up with something," he told her.

"Give me a minute. I need to rest my eyes," she said, her eyes sliding closed.

"Oh no you don't," he said. "First things first." Taking her hand, he pulled the IV needle out of her hand carefully and threw it aside. "Wake up, Evan," he ordered when he saw that her eyes were still closed. He reached up a hand and tapped her cheek gently. Evan's eyes rose slowly, but he found himself staring at her glassy green eyes. He tapped her cheek a little harder.

"Wake up!" He ordered her firmly and was rewarded for it when her eyes seemed to focus on him. He saw the flash of black in them and growled. "Evan. Think of something, focus on it. Your spider, think of that," he said quickly.

"No spiders, don't like spiders," she slurred, starting to drift off again.

"The stuffed one on your bed," he clarified.

"Miss having you in my bed," she smiled dopily.

"We've never made it to a bed," he muttered and then groaned. "Evan, if you go to sleep now, they're going to shock you again."

That had the desire affect, as her eyes snapped open and she concentrated on him. She raised a hand and rubbed it against her forehead. "Whatever we're going to do, we need to do it fast," she took a few deep breaths and focused on him.

Dean thought quickly, looking around the room. Any sharp objects had been removed from sight. Looking back at Evan he found her struggling to keep her eyes open. "We need a distraction," he told her. "Something to get them away from the desk so I can sneak you out."

"What time is it?" She asked him.

He glanced at his watch. "It's almost eleven o'clock," he told her.

"Shift change at eleven," she shook her head and tried to clear it.

"That's not going to be enough," he thought quickly. "But if there was an alarm for a missing patient, then that would get them away from the doors."

"The patients here don't like to escape," she said dully.

"You do," he said and grinned. "This will work," he said to her, thinking quickly. "Come here."

Evan rose from the chair and followed him. The one good thing about the drugs they had pumped into her was that she didn't feel her sore muscles any more.

"Under here," he ordered her and for once Evan did as he told. She knelt down and climbed under the bed. Dean put the rails down. "Honey, I need you to hang onto these rails and keep out of sight. And don't go to sleep," he cautioned her.

"Don't be long," she whispered.

Dean gave her a cocky grin and then stood up. He went to the door and peered out into the hallway. He saw one patient sitting in the wheel chair at the side of the hall, but that was all. He glanced back and found that Evan had disappeared under the bed and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He ran his fingers through his hair roughly, leaving it mussed. Grasping the collar of his shirt, he yanked it hard enough for it to rip down the front and then raked his nails down the side of his neck, hissing as he left scratches on his skin. "I'll be right back," he said softly and grinned when Evan's hand moved out from under the bed and she gave him a thumbs up.

Walking up the hall, he took a deep breath and then grabbed at his throat. He stumbled out of the hallway and lurched towards the nursing station.

"Oh my god," the two nurses on duty cried when they saw him. "What happened?" They came around the desk and caught him as he fell over the station.

"She attacked me," he choked holding his throat. "Evan attacked me, and then ran out of the room."

"Oh no, not again," the nurse said. And then turned to sound the alarm. "What way did she go, do you know?"

"The end of the hall, towards the exit," he waved his hand and tried to catch his breath.

The nurse picked up the up the small two-way radio and turned it on," Security alert to the rear exit," she said then flipped it off. "Stay here," she ordered him and then the two of them took off down the hall.

Dean stood up and then ran down the hall to Evan's room. He saw the orderlies and the guards scramble towards the back exit. He ducked into the room and pulled the rail of the bed up and knelt down. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Evan staring at him. "Come on, we gotta be quick," he said and she lowered herself to the floor. She pushed herself to her feet, trying to ignore the wobbly feeling in her legs.

"Here, put this on," he told her, taking his jacket off and helping her into it over the hospital gown. Taking her hand, he went to the door and peered out. He didn't see any nurses or orderlies. Tugging her along behind him he pushed the button for the elevator and waited impatiently for the doors to open, then climbed in quickly when they did.

As the elevator moved down to the lobby, Evan sagged against the side of the car. Her eyes were growing heavier by the minute, the adrenaline running through her not enough to counter the sedative that she had been given.

"Just a little more honey," Dean whispered to her and tapped her cheeks.

"'M so sleepy though," she whispered.

"Once we get to the car, you can sleep. I promise," he told her and then pulled her against his side as the doors opened.

The elevator opened to the busy emergency room and he took advantage of the confusion there to walk Evan past the harried nurses. They barely glanced at them as they passed through. Dean held his breath when they passed a hallway and saw a security guard walking up it, checking the rooms.

He saw the sun shining outside the glass doors and forced Evan along, matching his steps, holding her tight as she stumbled. "Just a little more Evan," he whispered. "There's the car."

Evan squinted her eyes against the drugs and the sunshine. A smile broke out on her face. She had never been so glad to see that car in her life. "Just keep walking, just keep walking," she started to sing and then giggled.

"That's it baby, just keep walking," Dean encouraged, making her take bigger steps.

"Stop!"

Dean pretended that he didn't hear the shout and kept pushing Evan towards the Impala. When he reached it, he quickly pulled open the door and pushed Evan inside. Slamming it shut, he glanced over his shoulder and saw a security guard coming towards them.

Dean dug in his pocket and pulled out his keys and climbed into the car, starting it and barely shutting the door before throwing it into reverse and backing up. He jammed it into gear and shot out of the parking lot just as the security guard reached them.

Evan struggled to sit up and looked out the windshield with fuzzy eyes. "Where are we going to go? If we go home, they'll bring me back," she whimpered and then leaned her head back against the seat. It lolled to the side and she then gave up the fight and drifted to sleep.

"I'll figure that out," he told her and then made his way towards the interstate.

_**Chapter Ten**_

"Your brother!" Edgar shouted when he came in through the front door and saw Sam and Kit sitting on the living room sofa talking.

"Excuse me?" Sam looked up at the man and, for a moment, was actually worried that he would have a coronary.

"Your brother," he stammered. "He took her."

"What do you mean, "took her"?" Kit asked her father, rising from the couch.

"Your sister. She's gone," Victoria explained. "We just went to the hospital to meet with the doctor and Evan is gone."

"She escaped?" Kit was stunned.

"She had help!" Edgar shouted at them. "Your brother signed in as a visitor and now she's gone. And so is he. He tricked the nurses and said that she ran out. They can't find either of them."

"Damn it Dean," Sam muttered under his breath and looked at Kit. He should have known something was up when his brother hadn't come back yet. They had been sitting there waiting for him so they could all go see Evan together.

"Dad, calm down," she said softly.

"Don't tell me to calm down Katarina! If your brother hurts my daughter, so help me," he began, but Kit and Sam both interrupted him.

"He wouldn't hurt her," Sam said suddenly.

"Dad, I know Dean, he's not going to hurt her," Kit assured her father.

"I let you into my house and he kidnaps my daughter? I'm going to have him arrested!"

"Dad please, let us handle this," Kit implored him.

Sam grabbed her hand and tugged her aside. "Kit, if your father has Dean arrested, there's going to be even more trouble. Dean is technically dead," he hissed at her.

"What?" Kit looked at him in surprise.

"Remember that shapeshifter I told you about?" Kit remembered the email he had sent her and nodded. "It died looking like Dean. They buried it using his name."

"Shit," Kit muttered and then ran a hand through her hair. "You try and get a hold of Dean, I'll deal with my father," she said, then looked up at him. "All brawn, no brains."

"There's got to be an explanation for it," he told her.

"It better be a damn good one!" Edgar yelled, hearing Sam's comment.

"Dad, please," Kit said and then took his hand and pulled him over to the couch and made him sit down.

Sam grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jacket and paged through the numbers to his brother's. Hitting the button, he paced the living room as it rang.

"Sammy," Dean answered in his usual way.

"Dean where are you?" Sam demanded.

"I want to talk to that little bastard," Edgar said, but Kit and Victoria told him to shush.

"I'm driving," he said vaguely.

"Cut the crap, Dean. Is Evan with you?"

"Yes."

"Is she okay?" Sam questioned him.

"She will be," he assured her. "She's sleeping right now."

"Dean, her father is threatening to call the cops on you. He wants you arrested."

"They'd be arresting a dead man Sam," Dean remarked as he changed lanes.

"Dean, this is serious. You have to bring her back," Sam nearly begged his brother.

"I can't let her go back there."

"Give me the phone," Kit said, taking it from him. "Dean, please. Bring her back."

"Kit, I can't," he told her seriously. "She asked for my help. I can't let them do that to her again. And I can't believe you would let them do it."

"Do what?" Kit asked him, confused.

"Electro shock therapy," he explained.

"What?" Kit cried in surprise and turned to look at her parents in horror and anger.

Sam took the phone from Kit's nerveless fingers. "Dean?"

"Sammy, I was right. She's not schizophrenic. It's something else. We just need some time to figure it out."

"Where are you going?" Sam asked of his brother. "We'll meet you there."

"No, Sam. I need you there. Once Evan and I figure this out, we'll be back. I'll keep you updated." The line went dead.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam shut off his phone and turned towards Kit and her family. He looked at the anger on Kit's face and grew concerned. "Kit, what's wrong?"

"Where is he taking my daughter?" Edgar demanded.

"I don't know," Sam told him honestly.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered.

"Actually, I think that applies to you right now!" Kit snapped at her father.

Edgar and Victoria looked at her in shock. "What did you say?" He demanded.

"You heard me perfectly well. You're the son of a bitch," she said angrily. "You agreed to put her through electro shock therapy?"

"What?" Sam questioned, looking from Kit to her parents. He paled, remembering what had happened when Dean had been shocked with an amped-up tazer while on a hunt.

"Electroconvulsive, Katarina," Victoria corrected her daughter.

"It's the same damn thing Mom. And it's barbaric. How could you even think that would help?"

"Dr. Fitzsimmons said that if they tried it early enough, they may be able to help your sister," Victoria explained.

"So you just turned her over to him without even talking to us about it?"

"It wasn't your decision to make," Edgar told his daughter.

"Bullshit!"

"Katarina," Victoria began but stopped when she saw the look on her daughters face.

"We're her parents," her father retorted. "It was our decision to make."

"Wrong Dad," Kit argued. "As far as I'm concerned you lost your rights to make decisions for her when you told us that we were on our own."

"Katarina, please, be reasonable," he implored her.

"I am being reasonable Dad. Evan and I have been taking care of ourselves for the last five years without any assistance from you, much less a telephone call to see how we were. And you think you have rights?"

"I just want to help Evangeline," he said.

"You want her to be normal. You want us both to be normal. The perfect little daughters that you can parade around at dinner parties and the country club. Well, we aren't like that Dad. That's not the kind of life that we want. We happen to like our life."

"Yes and look what that life has done to your sister," he snapped back.

"You know, I think Dean may have been right. Maybe there is another explanation. And if he has to take her away from here to find it, than I'm going to help him."

"Katarina, you can't be serious!" Edgar rose from the chair and put his hands on his hips, frowning at his daughter. "She is in a vulnerable state of mind right now. What if she gets worse?"

"Dean's with her. He may be impulsive, but we've both trusted him with our lives before and it worked out. I wish I could say the same about you. You're our father." Kit turned and walked out of the living room and up the stairs to her bedroom.

Sam followed behind her and shut the door, watching her as she paced the room, her heart pounding heavily in her chest.

"God, I hope he's right Sam."

"So do I," he replied.

Dean had headed north on the I-5 and had just kept driving. About ten minutes into the trip, he had turned the music on, but had kept it low, humming along with it softly. He glanced down every now and then to check on Evan who lay curled up on the front seat of the Impala. He had secured her the best he could with the seat belt and had carefully moved her head to rest on his thigh while she slept. While he drove, he idly stroked her hair away from her face.

Three hours later he had pulled into Cascade Cove in Shasta Lake. He drove around for a little while, picking and dismissing motels along the major road in town. Even though Kit and Sam were going to try and calm down her father, Dean didn't put it past the man to call the cops on him anyway and have Evan taken back to the hospital, so he had looked around for something remote.

Coming across a cabin resort, he pulled up to the admission office and left the Impala running while he quietly slipped out and went in.

The bell over the door tinkled and he heard a voice call out to him from the back of the office. "Just a second." A minute later a small, older woman came out from the back, wiping her hands on the apron around her waist. "What can I help you with, Dear?" she asked him.

Dean put on his best smile. "I was hoping that you might have a cabin available?"

"We have three sizes, Dear," she told him. "Is it just yourself?"

"No, actually it's for my," he faltered for a second. "My girlfriend and I. She's asleep in the car," he added when he saw the woman peer out of the door at the black Impala sitting there.

"Our small cabins sleep two. We have one available. It's kind of out of the way though," she warned him as pulled out a brochure.

"That would be perfect. It's the first weekend that we've had away together in a long time," he said with a conspiratorial whisper.

She smiled back at him. "Then this one will be perfect. It's tucked away in the pines. It has a private patio with a barbeque and full kitchen and there is a lovely fireplace. How long will you be staying with us?" she asked him.

"Three or four days," he said and then pulled out one of the less than legally obtained credit cards he had.

The woman took the card and ran it through the machine and then had him sign the registry. "Thank you for staying with us, Mr. Simmons," she said once everything was settled.

Dean headed back to the car, glancing in the window as he came around to the driver's side. Evan lay still on the front seat and he carefully climbed back in. He gently shifted her head back onto his thigh and put the car in gear and followed the directions that the woman had given him up the road and to the last cabin on the road.

The small cottage was painted a bright cheery yellow with gingerbread brown trim. The windows were covered with white lace curtains and the patio that he could see from where they parked looked out over the still waters of the river.

Shutting off the engine, Dean unbuckled Evan's seat belt and gave her shoulder a soft nudge. "Evan, baby, wake up," he said gently, but she barely even stirred. The drugs that the hospital had given her were still strong in her system.

Sliding out of the car, he dug the keys for the cabin out of his jeans pocket and went down to the cabin. He unlocked the door and threw it open and then went back to the car. He reached under Evan's shoulders and tugged her across the seat to where he could slide one arm around her back and his other under her knees. Lifting her into his arms, he pushed the car door closed with his knee and then carried her down to the cabin.

Her head lolled back against his arm and for the first time he saw the little red marks from the electrodes on her temples and he was once again reassured that he had done the right thing.

Glancing around the cabin, he saw the bedroom to the right. He carefully laid her on the large bed and then rooted around in the closet for a thick comforter to pull over her. He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep for a moment. He ran his hand lightly over her cheek, frowning at the dark circles under her eyes.

Rising from the bed he left the bedroom and closed the door. He went back into the surprisingly large living room of the cabin and found a sheet of stationary, scribbling a quick note, which he propped on the kitchen counter before leaving the cabin.

Pulling the Impala away from the cabin, Dean drove down the road and into town. He stopped first at the grocery store and stocked up on supplies. Putting them into the backseat of the car, he looked up and saw a clothing store. He jogged across the street and pushed open the door into the small boutique like store, a little bell tinkling overhead.

"Can I help you?" the young girl behind the counter offered.

Dean looked at her and saw the familiar gleam as her blue eyes looked him over.

He gave her a charming smile. "I hope so," he said. "I kidnapped my girlfriend for the weekend on the spur of the moment. And I need to pick her up some clothes." He said easily, not really lying.

"What size is she?" she asked him, the look in her eyes dimming at the mention of a girlfriend.

"Um," he paused venturing into unknown territory. He'd never bought clothes for a woman before. "She's about this high," he held his hand up to his shoulder. "Built kinda like you."

"So, petite," she said and then walked over to the racks, her long blond ponytail bobbing as she moved. "What kind of things does she usually wear?"

"Jeans, t-shirts," he said, then remembered the bandages on her arms. "Do you have any long sleeved shirts?"

"Sure,' she said, picking a pink long sleeved crop top from the rack. "How about this?"

"Not pink," he added, frowning at the pink shirt. She owned pink things, but he'd never seen her wear it.

"Oh, okay," she turned and flipped through the shirts. She picked out a handful of them and showed them to him and he nodded. "And these will go perfect with them," she added, taking a white coverall style pair of shorts off the rack. And then another pair of jeans.

"That's perfect," he said, feeling uncomfortable.

"Do you need some underthings as well?" she asked him.

Dean scratched his head and looked at her in askance. "Um, yeah?" Half an hour later, Dean walked out of the store shaking his head as he thought of all the stuff that he had just bought. Women needed _way_ too many things, he decided, tossing the bag into the car and driving back to the cabin.

Grabbing the bags from the car, Dean pushed open the door to the cabin and set them on the counter. He unloaded the grocery bag, putting the things away and then taking the bag of clothes to the bedroom. Pushing the door open he found Evan still asleep. He pulled the clothes from the bag and set them on the chair beside the bed. He then went back out to the living room and knelt at the stone fireplace. When he had a fire blazing in the hearth, he went to the kitchen and set about making a pot of coffee.

Grabbing a mug from the cupboard he poured himself a cup and then went over to the couch and sat down. He sipped the strong brew and then set the mug on the counter and laid his head back against the couch, wanting to rest his eyes for just a few moments.

Evan felt the gentle breeze drift over her cheek and stirred. She struggled to open her eyes, rubbing the sleepiness from them. The bright sunlight streaming in through the lace-curtained windows stung her eyes and she quickly closed them. A few moments later, she opened them again, and looked around the unfamiliar room with a frown.

Pushing herself up she rubbed her head, hoping to clear the fuzziness away. Images flooded through her mind. Dean coming to the hospital. Walking her out of the hospital and then nothingness and she slowly understood what had happened.

Spying the clothes laid out on the chair, she smiled. Throwing the blankets off, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment as her head swam. Once it had gone away, she rose from the bed, and stripped off the hospital gown and dressed. Padding on bare feet, she went over to the door and pulled it open slowly.

She paused when she saw Dean sitting on the couch asleep. She bit her bottom lip and frowned gently. Even in sleep, his face looked tense as if he were ready to spring at the slightest sound. Laying her head against the doorframe she watched him for a moment. It was her fault that he was so tense, and it tore her insides apart.

"How are you feeling?" Dean questioned her and opened his eyes, looking at her.

She felt guilty being caught watching him. "Um, better," she said almost nervously. She shifted uncomfortably. "Thanks," she gestured to the clothes. "For this. And for everything else."

"Don't worry about it," he said to her, brushing aside her thanks.

Glancing at the cup on the table she said instead. "Is there anymore coffee?"

"I made a pot," he said and shifted to the edge of the couch.

Evan cleared her throat and walked past him into the kitchen and went through the cupboards until she found the mugs. She turned and found Dean standing at the counter behind her and she her hands trembled slightly as she poured herself a cup. "So where are we?" she asked, sipping the strong coffee.

"Cascade Cove, Lake Shasta," he told her.

"Did you call Kit and Sam? Tell them where we are?"

"I called them. I didn't tell them where we are, though. Your dad threatened to sic the cops on me."

Evan felt a stab of dismay. "The police? Oh god, this is my fault," she said miserably.

"You let me deal with the cops if need be," he told her.

"Yeah, why?" She asked him, setting her coffee mug down and looking at him.

"I love dealing with cops," he said cockily.

"I mean why are you helping me, Dean?"

"Because you asked me to," he said then quickly moved on when he saw that she wanted to say something else. "When we were in the hospital you said that you were seeing things."

Evan took that as his hint to drop the subject. "Yes. Or at least I think I did," she said with a slight frown.

"What did you see?" He asked her.

"A girl," Evan said. "She had dark hair, shorter than mine, and blue eyes."

"Did you see her in the mirror with you?"

"Not in the mirror _with_ me. _Instead_ of me. Sometimes it was just a flash of her face, then it was me again," Evan clarified.

Dean slid off the stool and went over to the bag that he had dropped beside the couch. Rooting around in the bag, he pulled out a notebook and came back over to the stool. Pulling the pencil out of the spiral spine, he looked up at her. "Describe her to me."

Evan closed her eyes and thought back. As she described her, Dean moved the pencil over the page and slowly the face of the girl emerged. When he was finished, Evan paled slightly when she saw the picture. "That's her. That's the girl I keep seeing. But she has a necklace on. A silver one. With a heart and an S in the middle of it."

Dean added the necklace and then looked down at the picture then up at Evan. "Do you know her?"

"I've never seen her before," Evan said, then reached out and took the notepad from him. She ran her fingers over the picture.

"You also said that you heard voices," he reminded her. "Like it was your subconscious."

"I did. But it was strange," she said and then took a sip of her coffee.

"What did it say?" Dean asked her.

"It's hard to remember. Some of it didn't make sense," she tried to explain.

As she spoke, Dean made quick notes and then tapped the pencil while he listened. "What's the last thing that you remember clearly?"

Evan thought back to when she and Kit got home. "I remember the dress fitting."

"The dress fitting?"

She grimaced. "Kit and I are in the wedding, and we had to go for our first fitting on the dresses. When we got home, I told Kit I was going jogging. And that's all I can remember clearly."

Dean looked down at the notepad. "Are you sure you went out for a jog Evan?"

She stopped in sipping her coffee. "Yes. I went for a jog."

"Kit told Sam that you were going out hunting by yourself," he said with unusual quietness. He looked up and pinned her with his intense green stare. "Why?"

"I used to hunt by myself all the time before Kit came with me," she said with a shrug, then looked at him. "Don't look at me like that Dean. You told me you used to hunt by yourself before you went to pick up Sam too."

"I did a few jobs on my own, went after a few spirits, but that was it," he corrected her. "Dad and I worked as a team."

"And that's all that I did," she argued back.

"Kit said you were coming back bloodied and bruised," he retorted.

"I had a few scrapes. Kit worries too much," she said and walked around the counter.

"Why were you even going out alone?"

"Because I wanted to!" She turned and yelled at him, then walked into the living room. "I wanted some time to myself."

"You crazy," he muttered, shaking his head and then said as he grabbed her arm. "You don't hunt alone! That's how you get yourself killed!"

"I'm a big girl Dean, I can take care of myself!" She said, yanking her arm free of his grasp.

"Oh really? Who's the one that's seeing things and hearing voices?"

Evan turned to glare at him. "That's a low blow, Winchester."

"Why were you going out by yourself?" he asked her again.

"What do you want me to say Dean?" she returned. "Do you want me to say that I went out by myself because I was hurting and angry and regretting ending things with us? Fine. I was hurt, I was angry and I was regretting ending things between us. Are you happy now?" Evan paused and took a deep breath. She looked at him for a moment and then let out a frustrated growl and crossed the living room and went out onto the private deck at the back of the cabin, slamming the sliding glass door behind her.

Dean sighed, watching Evan take a spot at the railing and looked out over the water. Going over to his jacket lying across the back of the couch he dug out his camera phone and flipped it open. Pointing it at note pad, he snapped a picture of the drawing and then emailed it to his brother. He then paged through the numbers and dialed Sam's number. He picked up on the first ring.

"Dean? Where are you?" Sam questioned, looking at Kit sitting cross-legged on her bed paging through some text on her computer. She looked up when Sam answered the phone.

"Can't tell you that, Sammy," Dean said. "We're someplace quiet so we can figure this out."

Kit came over to Sam and motioned for the phone. Sam handed it over to her. "Dean?"

"Hey Kitty," he said and smiled on his end when he hard her familiar growl of irritation.

"How's Evan? Can I talk to her?"

"She's in a bit of a foul mood right now," he told her.

"You guys aren't fighting, are you?"

Dean paused, "It's nothing to worry about. We're like we always are," he told her. "Look, I think I might have something for you."

"Oh?" Kit's curiosity was piqued.

"I think we might have a face behind what's going on," Dean told her. "I sent it to Sam's email. It's the girl that Evan says she saw."

"He says check your email," Kit nudged Sam in the shoulder and he rose from the chair and went over to the computer open on her bed. He logged into his email and found the file that Dean had sent. Opening it up, he looked at the picture. Kit sat beside him on the bed and stared at the picture.

"Does she look familiar to you, Kit?" Dean asked her.

Kit shook her head. "No, not to me. But I'll ask my parents if they remember the face, or if there was report of missing girls."

"Check the local archives going back about ten years. And check to see if there are any obits about unidentified girls. If she was buried as a Jane Doe, we may just have to find her bones and salt and torch them."

"Finding a teenage Jane Doe is going to be fun. Do you know how many runaways there are in a year? Can we say needle in a haystack?" Kit asked him skeptically.

"I know. But it's worth a shot," Dean said to her.

"If she was a local girl, or even if she was a runaway, she would possibly haunt where she died," Sam added. "That might narrow it down a little."

"Listen to the college boy go," Dean laughed.

"Dean?" Kit stopped. She wasn't sure what to ask him.

"She's okay Kit," he assured her.

Kit breathed a sigh of relief. "Take care of my sister," she said softly. "I know you were pretty mad about what happened," she began.

"Kit, that's between Evan and me," Dean interrupted, not wanting to talk about it.

"I know it is. But she only did what she thought was right."

"I don't need her to look out for me, Kit," Dean said irritably. "But it's something that Evan and I need to discuss ourselves."

"Alright, I'll stay out of it," she said, holding up her hands and taking a mental step back. He was right. It was something that the two of them needed to discuss. "For now, just remember what I said before."

"I remember. I'll give you guys a call when we've figured out anything else, but if you track down this girl, give us a call."

"Will do," Kit said and then hung up the phone.

"Do you really think that your parents are going to help us find this girl?" Sam asked her a few moments later.

"They better," she said warningly and then picked up the laptop and took it over to her desk and plugged the printer into it. Tapping a few buttons, she printed out the picture that Dean had sent them. "Come on," she said as she took the paper out of the printer and left the bedroom, Sam following behind her.

"Mom?" Kit asked as she walked into the living room and thrust the print at her mother. "Do you recognize this girl?"

Victoria put down her book and took the picture from Kit. She looked at it for a moment and then shook her head.

"No, I don't," she said and handed the picture back to Kit. "Who is she?"

"That's what we need to figure out," Sam said. "Dean called," he started but Victoria interrupted him.

"How is Evangeline?" She asked him, the worry evident in her voice.

"Where are they?" Edgar asked as he came into the living room from his office, having heard the conversation.

"I don't know. Dean said they were somewhere quiet so they can figure out what is going on. He said that this is the girl that Evan said she was seeing," Sam took the picture from Kit and handed it to Edgar. "Do you recognize her?"

Looking at the picture, he frowned for a moment. "She looks vaguely familiar, but I can't place her," he then looked up at them. "What do you mean Evangeline was seeing her?"

"We might know what's wrong with Evan," Kit started, knowing that her parents were going to argue with what she was going to say next. "We think it's paranormal."

"Again with the ghosts," Angie said suddenly from behind them.

Kit turned around and looked at her sister standing in the doorway where she had walked into the last part of the conversation. "Yes. A ghost."

"There is no such thing as ghosts!" Angie suddenly shouted. "Why can't you accept that?"

"Why can't you accept the fact that there are such things?" Kit asked her sister. "Why are you so dead set against believing?"

"Because they don't exist," Angie said, pleading with her sister to see reason.

"Angie, I've seen them," Kit said and looked at her sister. For just a moment, she could have sworn she saw a look of uncertainty cross her little sister's face, but it was gone so quickly, she couldn't be sure.

"No! There are no such things!" Angie said stubbornly and then ran from the room.

"Why is she so set against believing?" Kit turned and asked Sam suddenly.

"I guess it's just easier that way," he told her softly and then took her hand, drawing her close into his arms and rested his cheek against the top of his head. "For a long time I didn't want to believe in it either."

"Do you really think that there is a ghost involved?" Victoria asked her daughter.

Kit looked at her mother from the circle of Sam's arms and nodded. "Evan said that she saw that girl whenever she looked into a mirror."

"But how could a ghost have gotten to your sister? I thought you two were protected against this kind of thing?" Edgar asked her. Kit looked at him in surprise and he groused. "I never said I didn't believe in what you did. I just don't agree with it. It's not the life your mother and I wanted for you."

"If you believed, than why did Nan have to hide it from us for so long?"

"Because we wanted you to have a childhood. We wanted you to have a choice," Victoria told her. "You're grandmother gave me the same choice."

"And you chose not to follow her," Kit surmised.

"I wasn't like you and your sister. I couldn't do it," she said.

"Then why did you fight with us when we left?"

"They wanted to try and keep you safe," Sam told her when they paused and looked ill at ease.

"We'd hoped that you would give it up and come home," Edgar said.

"But there's too much of your grandmother in you both," Victoria smiled ruefully.

"So why doesn't Angie believe?" Kit questioned her parents, turning in Sam's arms and leaning back against him, loath to leave the circle of warmth and protection she felt being there.

"She didn't spend as much time with your grandmother as you two did," Edgar told them. "She was still very young when your grandmother died."

"I just wish she would understand," Kit murmured.

"After some of the things that we have seen, would you really wish that on her?" Sam asked her quietly. Even now he sometimes wished that he still could say that there were no such things. But he knew better.

"No," Kit sighed softly. "I guess I wouldn't."

Edgar glanced down at the picture in his hand again and then frowned. Bringing it closer, he looked intently down at that necklace that the girl was wearing. "The other night, when your sister was in the hospital, she had an episode," he started. "The nurse told Dr. Fitzsimmons that she had said that her name was not Evan. What was it?" He asked himself, trying to recall the name that the doctor had told them.

"Stacy," Victoria said suddenly. "She said her name was Stacy."

"A possible runaway named Stacy," Kit said. "It's still going to be hard to find."

"But at least it's more than what we had a little while ago," Sam said and then went into the hall and took the stairs up to Kit's bedroom two at a time. He grabbed her notebook computer from her desk and then went back downstairs. Coming back into the living room, he set it on the coffee table and then brought up the search he had started earlier. Changing the parameters, he restarted the search with the new information.

"What is he doing?" Victoria asked, coming over to look over his shoulder.

"We can expand the search for missing girls named Stacy. And also see if there have been any remains found with a necklace like that one," Sam told her.

"That's my geekboy," Kit grinned when he looked at her and muttered something about spending too much time with Dean. Kit sat down on the couch beside him and laid her cheek against his shoulder.

"So if this spirit got to Evangeline, it would have to have been either a local girl, or at least died here."

"Exactly," Kit said to her mother. "Spirits tend to stick pretty close to where they died. And you said you couldn't hunt evil," she smiled.

"The research part of it yes, I could. But the actual hunting? No. That was something I left to your grandmother."

"Don't they also have a certain way they haunt?" Edgar asked them. "Don't they often relive the details of their death?"

Kit and Sam looked up at him in surprise. "Yeah. They do. How did you know that?" she asked her father.

"Believe it or not, I did pay attention when you and your sister talked about this stuff," Edgar told them.

"So if this "Stacy" had hold of Evangeline in the bathroom, we're most likely looking for a suicide," her mother surmised.

"Sam narrow the search down to suicides," Kit told him.

He frowned a few moments later. "No results. The problem could be that we are focusing on the wrong area," he explained.

"You never did answer me as to how this spirit could have gotten to your sister to begin with," Edgar said to her.

"Spirits and demons find a weakness within you and get in that way. Someone who is emotionally upset is easier to attack and take over," Kit explained.

"And like Evan, a lot of times the person has no memory of being taken over," Sam continued. "Which would explain why she didn't remember cutting herself, or some of the things that happened."

"But I ran the EMF reader over the whole house," Kit said. "And I didn't find a spike or anything."

"So did Dean, and it came up clean too," Sam mused.

"What was Evangeline upset about? How did this spirit get to her?" Victoria asked them.

Sam looked at Kit and then back at the computer. Kit looked at her parents. "One of the last jobs we did kinda went south a little. Evan and I had a fight. And then she and Dean had a fight."

"They're up there together," Edgar said slowly.

"I thought you said she was safe with him!" Victoria said suddenly, looking at Sam with a frown.

"Mom, she is," Kit assured her hastily. "Dean won't hurt her. And he won't let her get hurt."

"Are you sure?" Victoria asked her worriedly.

"She cares about him," Edgar didn't ask.

"If those two cared about each other any more they'd be," Sam began then stopped, his face reddening when he remembered to whom he was speaking. "They're just stubborn and won't admit it."

"That sounds like your sister," Victoria said suddenly and smiled.

"Still no results," Sam said a few moments later when he varied the search and tried again.

"Oh dear, Kevin is going to be here soon," Victoria said and then rose from where she had perched herself on the arm of the couch and then started out of the room towards the kitchen. "You can get an early start tomorrow searching for this girl. For now, we have dinner."

"Please, no more snapper," Sam groused softly.

"I heard that Samuel," she said. Kit and her father broke out in laughter as Sam's face reddened.

_**Chapter Eleven**_

Evan looked down at her plate and then up at Dean sitting across the breakfast bar from her. She picked up her knife and fork hesitantly. "It looks good," she said uneasily as she tried to cut into what had once been some form of food. She pressed the knife down against it and let out a small squeal of surprise as it crumbled beneath it.

Dean took a bite of it and resolutely crunched through it. He made a face and took a swallow of his beer to try and force it down. "I told you I couldn't cook," he told her.

"No lie," she said as she pushed it around on her plate. "But Dean, it's barbequing, not cooking." Looking up at him, she made a face.

"Yeah I know," he said with a sigh and pushed aside the plate. "Let's get out of here."

Evan smiled and hopped off of the stool and came around the counter. Dean walked over to the couch and grabbed his jacket from the back of it and pulled it on, then went out the car while Evan went into the bedroom and pushed her feet into the pair of sandals that he had bought her and then went out to the car where he was waiting. She climbed into the car and shut the door.

Dean drove down the road and into town where they found a small restaurant. Pulling into the parking spot in front of it, he parked the car and Evan climbed out. They walked into the restaurant and waited for the waitress to seat them.

"So you never learned to cook?" Evan asked him with a smile.

"Not really," he said, setting aside the menu that the waitress had left. "We moved around a lot. And Dad was off hunting most times. When we were in a place where there was a stove, Dad didn't want us using it in case we got hurt. So Sam and I made due on a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cereal and a lot of fast food places. Spaghetti-O's was about as brave as I ever got with cooking."

"I sometimes forget how different we really are," she said softly.

"I bet your Mom taught you to cook," he said instead of acknowledging her comment. Evan smiled and Dean found himself staring at the way it brightened her eyes, and made the dimple in her one cheek flash.

"Oh yeah. Between Mom and Nan, they had us girls covered," she laughed. "They enforced that saying "The way to a mans heart is through his stomach."

"Not always," he said and then gave her a cocky smile. "But it's a plus."

"Can I get you anything?" The waitress asked them as she came over.

"I'd like a beer please," he told her and then looked at Evan.

"Make that two," she said, and the waitress walked away.

"I called Sam and Kit earlier and sent them that drawing," Dean said to break the silence.

"I take it Kit got Dad to call off the cops?" She smiled and the dimple in her cheek once again caught him.

"Yeah, she did. She was asking how you were," he said to her then paused when the waitress brought over their beers and set them down on the table in front of them.

"I'm going to have to call her," Evan said.

"She's worried about you," he told her.

"She's not the only one." Evan took a swig of her beer and then set the bottle before her. She idly peeled at the label as she stared down at it with unseeing eyes. "I'm scared Dean. I don't like not knowing what's happening to me. I don't like not being able to remember. I don't trust myself," she told him honestly.

"Hey," he said, reaching across the table and catching her chin between his fingers and tugging her head up to look at him. "We'll figure it out and we'll beat it."

"I'm holding you to that," she said.

The waitress came to take their orders and they talked about their different past experiences. As she heard more about his childhood, or lack thereof, Evan's heart went out to him. She could see the small boy trying to take care of his little brother while his father was absent. Too much responsibility for such a young boy, she thought sadly. She'd at least had her parents and her sisters.

"Have you ever played pool?" He asked her once they had finished dinner and had stepped out of the restaurant and he spotted a pool hall up the street.

"I tried it once. I was horrible," she laughed.

"Come on, I'll teach you," he said and took her hand, tugging her across the street.

"It's hopeless," she laughed but followed along behind him.

They entered the smoky pool hall and Dean went to the bartender paid for the balls and ordered two beers. He then led Evan to a table at the corner of the hall and set them up.

"Welcome to Stick Handling 101," he said, ignoring the smirk that crossed her face. "This," he said, taking one of the house sticks from the rack on the wall, "is a pool cue. This is what you use to hit the balls around on the table." He then smiled when she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Like ohmigod, so that's what that is, huh?" Evan retorted in her best Valley girl voice and then grinned.

"It's scary that you can do that," he muttered. "Now come here," he ordered softly." You're right," Dean said a few hours later, as the ball that Evan shot stopped a fair distance from the pocket. "You're hopeless when it comes to pool."

Evan sent him a playfully dirty look over her shoulder. "I told you I couldn't play."

"And you didn't lie," he said turning her earlier words around on her.

Evan rose up from where she had been leaning over the table trying to make the shot. As she moved, it brought her closer to Dean and she felt her muscles tighten. She knew the reason she couldn't play, she couldn't keep her focus when she was around him. The touch of his hands as he'd moved her into a better position to shoot, the warmth of his breath as he'd come up behind her to help her line up a shot.

As she watched the easy way he moved around the pool table making each shot that he aimed for, Evan absently rubbed her temple. She watched the play of his muscles under the material of his black t-shirt, but it was almost as though she were looking at him through different eyes. She bit the inside of her lip and shifted her position on her stool. Her mouth went dry when he bent over the table in front of her. She grabbed the beer bottle off the table and took a healthy swallow.

Dean sunk the shot that cleared the table and turned to look at Evan, a cocky grin on his face. He saw the flush that touched her skin. He took a step closer and the flush deepened. It was hard to tell in the smoky interior the bar, but he could have sworn he saw her eyes darken.

"Are you okay?" He asked her suddenly.

She nodded slightly. "I think I've hit my limit," she told him and set the bottle down on the table. She'd only had a few beers, and Dean with having to drive, had switched to cola, but she was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol.

"We should get you back to the cabin," he told her. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a few bills and tossed them down on the table for the waitress and took his jacket off of the table and slipped it around Evan's shoulders.

Evan slid off the stool and followed him out. The night had cooled and she was glad for the jacket. Pulling it around her shoulders, she shivered as she caught the scent of his soap and the underlying scent that was all him. She curled her fingers around his as she followed him across the street. He held the door open for her and she climbed into the car. As he circled the front of the car, she rubbed her temple a little harder, the pain wasn't as intense as it had been before, but it was evident. She closed her eyes and rubbed harder.

When Dean pulled open the car door and climbed in, he glanced at Evan and found her looking at him intently. "What?"

Evan smiled slightly and shook her head. "Nothing."

Starting the car and pulling away from the curb, Dean headed back towards the cabin. While he drove, he felt Evan watching him. He glanced towards her and once again found her watching him.

"You okay?" He asked her as he pulled up in front of the cabin.

"I'm fine. You're cute, you know that?" she asked him and then smiled brightly at him. She pushed open the door of the car and got out, pausing at the door and looking back over her shoulder at him.

Dean paused in getting out of the car and stared at her for a moment. He then shook his head and got out, slamming the door closed and walked over to the cabin, following her inside, shutting the door behind him.

Evan slid off his jacket and tossed it onto the back of the couch and then sat on the arm of it and watched him.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Dean questioned her as he tossed the car keys onto the counter. She nodded and continued to watch him intently. Dean shrugged and went to the small kitchen and pulled a beer from the fridge. "You should give Kit a call. She's worried," he started and then turned to find Evan standing behind him.

She took the bottle from his hand and reached up to cup her hand around the back of his neck and tugged his head down to her mouth. She set the bottle on the counter and then reached up to slide her fingers into his hair.

He groaned softly into her mouth as she pressed herself against him. The warmth of her hand on his neck, the familiar taste of her sent waves of arousal through him. He laid his hands on her hips and pulled her tighter against him. For weeks, he had dreamed of holding her again. His mouth moved over hers, pushing her lips apart, drowning in the taste of her.

She shuddered at the feel of him, not able to remember a time where she had felt such an overwhelming need to be close to someone. The grip of his hands, the almost punishing kiss, were so different from the few stolen kisses she'd had so long ago. She could feel the arousal of his body against her and she growled softly into his mouth and moved backwards to the couch.

Dean followed her to the couch, his mouth moving roughly over hers. He gripped her hips harder and pulled her even tighter against him. When she toppled back over the arm of the couch, he followed her down, moving between her legs and bracing himself on his elbows. He pulled his head back and looked down at her. That was when he noticed the flash in her eyes.

"Shit," he said suddenly and pushed himself off of her.

"What's the matter?" she asked him, pushing herself up onto her elbows.

"We can't do this," he said, surprising himself even as the words left his mouth. He backed away from the couch and scrubbed his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath.

"Why not? You wanted to a moment ago. You still do," she said in confusion and pushed herself up onto the arm of the couch and then to her feet. She walked over to him, the gleam in her eyes growing.

"No, this isn't right," he said, backing away from her.

"Why isn't it? You want me. I felt it," she said slowly.

"It's not you that I want," he said roughly, watching her carefully as he moved away from her. "I want Evan."

"Why? Why her?" she asked him and for the first time, he noticed that it wasn't Evan's slightly husky voice. It sounded small and confused. "I can be her."

"No. You're not her," he retorted and he saw something move deep within her eyes. "You may be wearing her face, but you're not her."

A small ripple seemed to go through her. "What's the difference? They're just bodies to you," she said walking slowly around him, her voice dropping. "I can see into you."

"Evan, snap out of it," he ordered her trying to close his mind off from it.

"All those girls over the years, you never cared about any of them. They were just there for you to use. And she knows it," she whispered at him, trailing her hand over him.

"You wouldn't understand," he told it coldly through clenched teeth. "Evan, listen to me. You gotta push it aside."

"She can't get rid of me!" She suddenly screamed and then raised her hands to beat at his chest.

Dean grasped her wrists and tried to still her hands. "Stop it! You're going to hurt her!"

"Good!" she cried and he flinched at the fury in her voice.

"Who the hell are you? What do you want with her?" He gripped her wrists tighter. He looked down at her and for the briefest of seconds he saw her face contort into something dark and he was suddenly hit with a feeling of great anger.

"I want her dead! I need her to die!" she screamed and he flinched when he heard two voices escaping her.

"Let her go you bitch!" He yelled at her. They were so close together as they struggled that Dean's pendant fell forward and touched the skin of her throat.

Evan's form suddenly went stiff and her eyes widened. She started to sway and he caught her just before she hit the ground. When they opened again, he stared into her familiar green eyes. She frowned slightly and pulled her wrists from his grasp and then started to rub her temples as residual pain ran down the sides of her face.

"Evan?" Dean frowned and looked at her rubbing her temple, her face paling.

Taking a shaky breath, she blinked slowly and looked up at him. "It happened again, didn't it?" she asked him weakly.

"Yeah," he nodded. He took her hands and tugged her gently to her feet. "Come on, let's get you over to the couch."

She hissed sharply as the pain flared up her arms. Dean pushed her down onto the couch and frowned. He tugged the sleeves of her shirt up and then sucked in his breath when he saw the blood seeping through the bandages on her arms.

"Dammit, Evan, I'm sorry," he said, guiltily. He went into the bathroom and grabbed the small first aide kit and then wet the face cloth. Taking them back out to the living room, he sat on the couch beside her and pulled out his knife. Slicing the bandages away from her arms carefully, he removed the old bandages and cleared away the blood. He frowned as he looked at the lines of the cuts on her arms. Something about them wasn't right. He shook his head. "It doesn't look like any of the stitches were pulled," he told her.

"Why is she doing this to me?" she asked him softly.

"I don't know Evan," he said gently placing new pads on the wounds and then wrapping her arms with the gauze. "We're going to figure it out." Finishing his task, he caught her chin in his fingers and made her look up at him. "I promise."

"Maybe you should just stay away from me," she said suddenly a sob clawing at her throat as she rose from the couch and backed away from it him and pressing shaking hands against her mouth. "I don't trust myself anymore Dean. I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

"Don't worry about me," he told her, forcing a cocky tone into his voice.

"You should have left me at the hospital," she said dejectedly, sniffing and wiping the tears from her eyes.

Dean's heart tightened in his chest as he looked at her. He wanted the rough and tumble Evan back, the one who faced down a master vampire, the one who attacked werewolves. He didn't like to see her upset, afraid and uncertain. "There's no way I was leaving you there, Sweetheart," he told her.

"Why not? You could have left me there with a clear conscience," she said miserably. "You should just go away and leave me alone."

"I'm not leaving you," he said to her.

"Why not? It's what's best," she said.

"Who says? You? Sorry Sweetheart, that's not good enough," he retorted, shaking his head.

"Dean, please," she said softly, her throat closing up on her as she looked at him. "I don't want you to see me like this!"

"Tough." Grabbing her shoulders Dean forced her to look at him, "I'm not leaving you again."

_Night was falling._

_The moonlight barely penetrated to where he stood. He could smell the grass around him, felt the breeze against him._

_He looked up at the house and shuddered. He was inside, surrounded by indistinct shapes covered in white. He looked out through the large front window at where he had been a few seconds ago. He heard the soft sound of crying to his side. Kit was standing in the center of the room by herself wiping her eyes. He tried to reach out to her, but he was torn away._

_He heard voices from above. He turned and he faced the hall that hadn't been there a moment ago. He looked at the closed doors and tried to reach for the one with the plaque that said "Stacy", crying out as he was drawn away from it by an invisible hand. He was just a visitor in this, an unwilling viewer. _

_He felt himself drawn down the hallway and into the bathroom at the end. He walked over to the large, claw-footed tub and saw Evan lying in the bottom, her hair floating around her in the water. Her empty green eyes staring up at him._

Sam jerked out of the dream and pressed the palms of his hands against his forehead as pain flared through his head.

"Sam? What is it?" Kit asked him sleepily from beside him. She sat up on one elbow and tugged the sheet around her. She reached for the lamp on the bedside table and flicked it on. "Sam?"

He hissed as the bright light blazed in the room and stung his eyes. "Dammit," he muttered, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers to his eyes.

"Ooh... sorry," she said quickly, turning the bulb down. She turned back to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen under her touch and then relax. "Another vision?"

"Yeah," he said shakily, taking a deep breath as the pain started to recede.

"You're still fighting them. Remember what I said before? Let them come," Kit said soothingly as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him until his shaking subsided. "What did you see?"

Sam shook his head, trying to sort out the images that saw. He looked at Kit, pain in his eyes. He didn't want to tell her. How could he tell her what he'd seen? What he had seen not only recently, but the first night they had been together?

"Sam, is it about Evan?" Kit pulled back to look at him. "It is, isn't it?" He nodded miserably. "What did you see?"

"A house. A Victorian I think. And then I was in it. It was empty. All of the furniture was covered. You were there. Standing in a room. You were crying."

"What house Sam?"

"I don't know. But there was a door. It had one of those wooden name plates. It was Stacy's room."

"Did you see anything else that might give us a name?"

"No. Just the door with her name."

Kit shook her head in disappointment. "What else did you see?"

Sam closed his mouth and looked at her. "I saw Evan."

"You're not telling me everything," she said suddenly, narrowing her eyes at him. "Tell me."

"She was in a tub. She'd drowned," he swallowed as he told her.

"No," Kit said stiffly.

"Kit, I'm sorry," Sam said, trying to take her hands, but she pulled them out of his grasp.

"No," she repeated stubbornly. Throwing off the covers and rising from the bed, she pulled her t-shirt over her head and pulled on the jean shorts she had been wearing earlier in the evening. "Evan is not going to drown. She is not going to die. How could you even think of something like that?"

"Kit, I can't control these visions," he told her. "And I can't stop them."

"Are you sure that it's a vision? Maybe it's just a bizarre dream," she grasped then saw the look on his face. "This is the first time you've seen it."

"This one, yes," he told her, feeling ill at ease.

"You've had visions about this before?"

"Yes," he nodded slowly.

"What did you see Sam?" Kit stiffened and narrowed her eyes at him. "Tell me everything that you saw."

"The first time, I saw the house. And then a figure," he told her. "Then Dean was standing at a grave and you were carrying roses."

"Evan's grave?"

"Yes," he said honestly. "You were crying. And Dean," he paused. "I'd never seen that look on his face before. Until we saw Evan in the hospital."

"How many times have you had this vision?"

"A few. But it's been coming more frequently."

"When did they first start?" Kit asked him and saw him shift uncomfortably on the bed. "Was it after we left Louisiana?"

"No."

"Sam, when did you have the vision the first time?"

"The first vision that I had when I was with you," he muttered.

"You started having visions of this back then?" She demanded, anger making her voice tight.

"I didn't know what it meant at first, or I would have told you. And then Louisiana. There was enough going on, and I still didn't know what it meant," he explained.

"You still don't know what it means," she snapped angrily.

"No, I don't. I wish I did."

"Are your visions ever wrong?" she asked him, a quaver in her voice. They had to be.

"Not yet," he said with total honesty.

Kit paled. Her grandmother used to have the same kind of visions. Ones that she was not always able to change. But in this instance, Sam's had to be wrong.

"So what do you expect me to do Sam? Stand aside while she dies because your vision says so?"

"No, of course not," he replied.

"Good, because I'm not letting her go without a fight. I don't care what your vision says, it's not going to happen," she said angrily, wiping at the tears that filled her eyes. "Do you hear me?"

"I know Kit," Sam took her shoulders and pulled her tight. "I know."

"I can't lose," she started, trying to push aside the pain and fear that seized her. She had been trying for so long to hold it in, to not admit that she was afraid of what was going on, but it was too much. She couldn't do it anymore. Sam's warmth and comfort was her undoing. She held onto him tightly as the tears flowed down her cheeks and she sobbed helplessly.

Sam held her tight, not knowing what else to do. He could feel her shaking, heard the sorrow in her sobs and wished that he could take it from her. As much as he and his brother argued he didn't know if he could have stood up for as long as Kit had before breaking.

It was a while before Kit's sobs lessened enough for her to tip her head back and look up at Sam. "I'm sorry," she said with a thick voice. "I didn't mean to go all to pieces."

"I'm glad you did," he smiled down at her. "I would be worried if you hadn't at some point."

"Yeah, big demon hunter crying like a little baby. Not going to instill fear in anything that we hunt," she said with a watery smile.

"Your secret is safe with me," he grinned down at her and then lowered his mouth to hers to briefly touch her lips with his.

The shrill of his cell phone in the quiet surprised them both. Sam looked around for a moment and found it on the bedside table. Without letting go of Kit he reached over and looked at the display.

"It's a 530 area code," he frowned.

"Maybe Dean from a pay phone?" Kit said to him.

Sam shrugged and answered the phone. "Hey Dean."

"Sam?" The familiar rough voice reached across the lines to him.

"Dad?"

Kit looked up at him in surprise. She knew that Sam and Dean had been searching for their father for months.

"Yeah Sam," John Winchester said to his youngest son.

"Dad where are you?"

"I can't say Sam," his father said in typical fashion. "Where are you? I thought I told you two to go to Pennsylvania."

"Something came up," Sam looked at Kit and she frowned slightly at the look that crossed his face.

"Something came up," John repeated slowly. "Where's your brother?"

Sam grimaced. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Sam what the hell have you two been doing?" Sam sighed and then gave his father the highlights of what had been happening. "Damn it Sam, you and your brother have a job to do and you let yourselves get sidetracked by a couple of girls? Is that how I raised you?"

"Dad, it's not what you think," Sam tried to tell him.

"It sounds exactly like what I think," John replied.

"Dad," Sam bristled.

"I want you in Pennsylvania," John replied.

"We have to finish here first," Sam said. "We'll go to Pennsylvania when we're done here," he retorted and then hung up. "That could have gone better," he said with a sigh and looked at Kit.

"I'm sorry. We never meant to get you into trouble with your father," Kit replied, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"We'll deal with my father later. We have to find out what's doing this to Evan first."

"And to do that, I think a trip the county records office is in order," Kit said as they left her bedroom and went down the stairs.

"I think you might be right," he nodded.

"Why the county records office?" Victoria asked them as they came into the kitchen.

"The county records office keeps track of all the births and deaths in the area. We might be able to find something there. We need to get to a copy store," Sam said and sipped his coffee.

"A copy store? Why?" Edgar questioned them.

"They aren't just going to give us the records," Sam said to the man.

"So sneaky is the code word," Kit told him.

"You're not going to do something illegal are you?" Victoria frowned at her daughter.

"The less you know the better," Kit admitted.

"My daughter is a felon," Edgar moaned.

"We'll be back," Kit told her parents and then dragged Sam out of the house to the car. She backed out of the driveway and drove down the street. Once in the downtown core, she pulled the car up in front of the first copy shop that she saw.

"Dean is better at doing this, but I think I can manage," he said to her. "It shouldn't take too long."

"So who are we this time?" Kit asked him as he climbed out fo the car. She slipped out of the car behind him and followed him into the store.

Sam looked around for a moment and then went over to the computer that had been set up for patrons to use. He quickly logged onto the internet and searched for what he was looking for. Kit watched as he pulled up some images and then looked at him and smiled.

"Not sure about that yet," Sam told her, keeping his voice low as he used the imaging program and the scanner to copy their driver's license photos. Once he'd had them done, he cut the images and placed them into what he had been working on.

"No more Samantha Fox please," she groused. "You're good," she added a few minutes later once he'd arranged the ID's the way he wanted them.

"Dean's a lot better at doing this," he said as he printed them off. He shot her a smile and then took them to have them laminated.

Once they'd paid for them, they climbed back into the car and Kit turned the car around. They stopped at a nearby department store and picked up a few items that they would need.

Back in the car, Sam cut the tags off the two cheap men's wallets that he had bought and then cut the shape of the badges into the leather. He then stuck the two pads of velcro to each badge and wallet and fixed them into the wallets. Sliding the two fake ID's into them, he gave them a quick glance.

"They're quick and dirty, but they'll do. Just don't flash it for too long," he warned her.

"Gotcha," she said and then took hers from him. Flipping it open, she grinned when she saw the name he chose. "Joyce Hetfield." Remembering the name that she had given the first time they'd met.

Kit pulled the car away from the curb and turned it towards the county records office. They climbed out of the car and went up to the front doors. "The Records department should be in the basement," she said to him a few minutes later as they ducked the security guards and found the stairwell, taking it down to the sub basement of the building. After wandering for a few minutes they came across the Records Clerks office.

"Can I help you?" The young woman, a petite brunette smiled as they peered in through the door.

"I hope so," Sam returned her smile and then flashed his badge at her. "I'm Detective Fred Daly from the Sacramento Police Department and this is my partner, Detective Hetfield."

"Police detectives? Here? This is unusual," she smiled brighter, which Kit hadn't thought possible.

"Why is that?" Sam asked her, trying to stifle the pleasure he felt when he more or less saw Kit stiffen at the young woman's gaze as it wandered over him.

"I don't get too many visitors down here," she said.

"Actually, we're here working on a case. We're from the Cold Case Squad," he told her, and then pulled the picture out of his pocket and showed it to her. "We're trying to locate this girl and had a tip that she might have been a local girl. We were hoping to take a look at the death records."

"Do you know how long ago?" The young girl, Amber, from what Kit could see of her name tag, asked Sam

"Maybe about ten years ago?" Kit piped up and then frowned when she got a dismissive look from the young girl.

"She may be named Stacy," he said to her,

"And she's a local girl?"

"Maybe," Kit said to her. "It's really important that we find her."

"Well, we have all the records for the past five years on computer, the rest are on microfiche reels in the Records room."

"Can we see them?" Sam asked her, flashing his best smile, suddenly wishing that Dean were there. His brother could charm the pants off a nun.

"Can we take a look at them?"

"Sure, this way," she said and rose from her chair and led them to the Records room. She unlocked the door and took them to the back of the room where sat a large, antiquated Microfiche projector.

"Oh god, I hate those things," Kit muttered to Sam as Amber began looking through the storage containers looking for the years that they asked for. "They make me seasick."

"These are all the reels for the years 1990 to 1999," Amber told them and set the large box on the table beside the projector.

"Thanks a lot, we appreciate this," Sam told her and then took the lid off of the box and looked inside. His spirits sagged a little when he looked at the number of reels.

"I'll see if I can find something for you on the computer. What exactly are you looking for?"

"A young girl, in her late teens, early twenties. Possibly a suicide," Kit told her.

"I'll see what I can find," Amber said and then went back to her office.

Sam sat down at the chair in front of the projector and began loading the first reel into it. "I guess we should work our way back." Kit pulled up another chair and turned it around, folding her arms over the back of it and rested her chin, preparing for a long search as Sam began flipping through the different records. She pulled a notepad and pen out of her purse, ready to make notes.

They were an hour into their search when Sam stopped. "Here's something, Stacy Caplin," he told her and Kit wrote down the name. "Oh wait. She died of natural causes. And was fifty three."

"Keep looking," Kit said as she crossed the name off. She sighed and looked at him. "This is going to take forever."

"We'll wade through it," he told her and then went back to the projector and continued flipping through the reels. "Here's another one, Stacy Miller," he told her a short time later. "She was from Auburn."

"She may have lived there, but that doesn't mean she died there. It's a possible," Kit said as she wrote down the name.

"My eyes are getting sore from reading this," he told her a little while later.

"I'll take over," Kit said and rose from her chair. She nudged Sam off of his seat and sat down, scrolling through the records.

She had been flipping through the records for about an hour and a half when she stopped suddenly. She frowned when she saw the name on the record.

"Sam, I think I have something," she said. She magnified the record and stared at the name. "Stacy Northrum, nineteen years old. Suicide. She died in 1991. Interred at the SouthGate Cemetary."

"That was fifteen years ago. Do you think that's her?" Sam asked as he wrote down the information.

"SouthGate Cemetery isn't too far from our house. And that name, Northrum, it sounds familiar," Kit thought for a moment and then dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She quickly dialed home and waited as the phone rang.

"Hello?" Victoria answered after a few rings.

"Mom, do you remember a girl named Stacy Northrum?"

"You found her?"

"Maybe," Kit told her mother. "Does the name ring any bells for you?"

"Not really," Victoria said with disappointment.

"Is my computer still set up?"

"Yes, it is. Just let me get to it." Victoria took the cordless into the living room and sat down on the couch in front of the computer.

"I have a search page saved that I use a lot, I need you to bring that up."

"I do know what to do dear," her mother said gently.

Kit flushed, "Sorry Mom."

Victoria set the phone down and brought up the search page. Tapping at the keys Victoria started the search. "Katarina, I think I found something," she said and then clicked the link to an old newspaper story. "June 28th, 1991," she said and then scrolled up. "Oh my god, she breathed.

"What is it Mom?" Kit said with a frown, looking over at Sam.

"It's her," Victoria said softly. "There's a picture of her in the newspaper story. A small one. It looks like it was her high school picture." Victoria scanned the story. "It's her obituary."

"Mom, go back a few days. See if you can find anything else about her."

"I'm looking," Victoria answered. She glanced up when her husband came into the room and waved him over and pointed to the screen.

"Holy shit," Edgar breathed as he stared down at the picture of the young girl.

"Here it is, Katarina," her mother said as she pulled up another page. "She had just graduated high school and was going to be going on to University to become a nurse," she told them.

"Does it say how she died?" Kit asked and could then hear her mother muttering as she read quickly through the story.

"She was discovered by her mother in the upstairs bathroom, having," Victoria stopped reading. "She cut herself. Just like your sister."

"Does it say anything else?" she asked and then covered the mouthpiece of the phone and turned to Sam. "It's her."

"Now we know where to begin," Sam said with a touch of relief.

"Katarina, she'd been suffering from delusions and auditory hallucinations and depression."

"Where did she live?" Sam whispered.

Kit questioned her mother.

"She lived in the Spencer house," Victoria told her, reading further. "They hadn't lived there for very long."

"The Spencer house. That's the house up on Crawford, isn't it?" Kit frowned as she thought.

"Yes it is. It's been up for sale for a long time," her mother told her.

"Do the Northrums still live there?" Sam asked Kit.

She shook her head. "No. The house has been up for sale for years. We have to find out who owns that house," she told him.

Back at the house, Edgar took the phone from his wife. "Katarina?"

"Yeah Dad?"

"The bank owns the house. We foreclosed on it years ago and have been trying to sell it ever since," he told his daughter.

"Dad, I need the title history on that house," she told him urgently. "Can you get me that?"

"We have the records for it at the bank," Edgar said.

"I need them. Can you have them by the time we get home?"

"Where are you going?" He asked his daughter.

"To work Dad. Sam and I have to check out that house. If her spirit was tied to it, than that means that something of hers is still in that house. If we find that and then destroy it, we can drive the spirit out of Evan and get her back." Kit said as she rose from the chair and hit the button to print out the copy of the death certificate.

"Is that safe?" Edgar questioned, suddenly worried for their safety.

"Dad, Stacy's spirit is in Evan now, it's not in the house. We'll be okay," she assured him.

"Be careful," he ordered her softly.

"Always," she replied cockily and then hung up.

Sam pulled the reel from the projector and put it back in the box and slapped the lid on it. He then grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and followed Kit out of the room.

"Did you find anything?" Amber asked them, glancing up as they came out.

"Yes, thank you so much for your assistance," he told her.

"Any time," she sent him a bright smile.

Kit rolled her eyes and tugged on the arm of his jacket. "Come on, let's go." She muttered.

When they got back to the car, Sam pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and dialed his brother's number. "They should know what we found out," he said to her and she nodded as she pulled out of the parking lot.

"Dean, we found something," Sam said when his brother answered the phone. He sat up straighter in the seat. "What do you mean she's gone?"

_**Chapter Twelve**_

Evan gave Dean a weak smile as he climbed out of the car and headed towards the pharmacy across the street. They had run out of bandages and cream for the wounds on her arms earlier that morning and had decided to go into town to stock up on them. The sun streaming in through the windshield stabbed at her eyes and made her wince.

She rubbed slowly at her temples and tried to conjure images in mind to try and push aside the pain. She had been fighting it all morning, but it was getting stronger. And the voices were getting stronger. She clenched her jaw tight and tried to push them away, but gasped as the pain flared suddenly and took her breath away.

She opened her eyes and looked around slowly. The sun shone brightly down on the car and she smiled. Pushing open the door, she climbed out. Slamming the car door shut she stepped away from the car and stood in the sidewalk and let the sun beat down on her skin. It had been so long since she had felt the warmth of it.

She tipped her head up towards it and closed her eyes. She could feel the gentle breeze on her skin and a small smile tipped the corners of her lips. She breathed deeply and smelt the aromas from the nearby restaurant. She listened to the voices of the people around her and smiled. Actual voices, not the ones in her head.

Grinning, she looked around and saw the pool hall across the street. She remembered it from the night before. She checked the street and then quickly crossed it. Pushing open the door, she entered the darkened interior. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the lack of light.

"Hello again," the bartender waved at her as she stood in the doorway.

"Hi," she said and stepped in. Walking over to the bar, she slid up onto the barstool.

"What can I get you?" he asked her.

"A beer," she said slowly and then waited for the man to ask her for her ID.

"One beer," he said as he filled the glass from the tap. Her smile grew when he set it down in front of her. Looking up into the glass behind the bar, her smile turned dark for a moment as she stared at the red-headed girl looking back at her. This could be fun.

His first mistake had been in leaving her alone in the car by herself.

His second mistake had been in thinking that she might actually listen to him.

Dean stared into the empty car and then cursed under his breath as he rose up and looked around the street. He threw the package he'd gotten at the pharmacy into the back seat of the car and slapped his hand on the roof of the car. "Damn it Evan," he muttered, looking up and down the street again.

He growled softly when his phone rang. Digging it out of his jacket pocket he flipped it open and saw his brother's name. "Yeah?"

"Dean, we found something," Sam said to him.

"Well that's good. As soon as I find Evan, I'll let her know. She's gone."

"What do you mean she's gone?" Sam questioned him. There was a bit of a scuffle and then Kit came on the phone. "Where is she?"

"I don't know. I went into the pharmacy to get some bandages and when I came back, she was gone. She can't have gone far."

"You have to find her," Kit said urgently.

"I'm going to, don't worry. Now what did you two find out?"

"The girl's name is Stacy Northrum. She committed suicide fifteen years ago," she told him.

"Did you find out where?" Dean asked as he walked along the street, peering in through the store windows looking for Evan.

"Yeah. In her home. And it's not too far from ours."

"Wonderful. Your own neighborhood spook," he said to her, looking in another window.

"Sam and I are going to check out the house now," Kit told him.

Peering in through the window of the pool hall, he saw Evan sitting on one of the bar stools beside a man. He frowned when she took a cigarette from him and then leaned into him while he lit it. "Since when does Evan smoke?" he asked Kit.

"She doesn't," she replied. "What's going on? Did you find her?"

"Damn it, yeah I did. Look, call me if you find anything," he said and then hung up. He gritted his teeth when she laughed at something the man said and reached out to touch him on the arm. Dean pushed open the doors to the pool hall and walked up to the bar.

"There you are, Stacy," he said and she looked up at him in surprise. He stared back at her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked him.

"I came to get you before you did something foolish," he told her.

"No, you came to get her," she hissed suddenly and Dean could see the blackness flare in her eyes for a moment.

"Yes well, you're one in the same at the moment, so come on."

"Look pal," the man next to them said. "The lady and I are having a drink. Now leave us alone."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "Dude, this is my girlfriend, and I'm going to take her back to our cabin."

"He's lying," she told the man. "I'm not his girlfriend."

"She's pissed off because a salesgirl was flirting with me," he lied as the man started to fold his somewhat stocky frame off of the barstool.

"She doesn't seem to want to go with you," he said, curling his hands into large fists at his sides.

Dean shook his head slowly and turned baleful green eyes on the man. "This is not something you want to get involved with." To Evan he said. "Floppy purple polka dotted spider legs."

Evan frowned at him for a second and he could see her internal struggle. Her eyes flashed from black to green and her frown deepened as she looked up at him. "Dean?"

"You ready to go back and talk now?" he asked her and then put a smile on his face.

Evan looked at him and then at the man standing behind him. "Um, yes," she said in confusion. "I think we should talk."

Dean turned to the man and smiled. "See, she wants to come with me after all."

"Are you sure?" he asked Evan and she nodded slowly, still confused. Looking down at her hand she saw the cigarette burning and a chill went through her. She crushed it out and then stood up. "Please, Dean. Let's go."

Dean threw down some bills on the bar and then took Evan's hand, curling his fingers tight as she clung to it almost as if it were a lifeline. Following him out of the pool hall, she climbed into the car and sat quietly in the front seat as he started the car.

"I'm sorry," she said so low he almost didn't' hear it as he pulled the car away from the curb.

"For what?"

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," she wiped at her eyes as they began to sting.

Dean glanced over at her and his jaw clenched. Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close to his side. Turning his head briefly, Dean pressed his lips against the top of her head, but didn't say anything. "Kit and Sam called," he told her when they reached the cabin and had gone inside. Dean knelt down at the fireplace and began laying a small fire in the stone fireplace.

"What did they say?" She asked him as she set about making a pot of coffee.

"They found your little mental hitchhiker there," he said to her as he came over to the counter and sat down on the barstool. He took the cup of black coffee that she passed him with a grateful smile.

"Who is it?"

"A girl named Stacy Northrum," he told her then asked when she frowned. "Do you know her?"

Evan rubbed her temple slowly and her frown deepened. "No. I don't know her, but," she groaned suddenly as pain flared through her head and down the sides of her face. She clenched her eyes shut and breathed deeply.

Dean slid off the barstool and went around the corner to her, taking her shoulders and holding her shaking body. "Evan, are you okay?"

"It hurts," she groaned, rubbing her temples. "She's getting stronger. It's getting harder and harder to push her out."

"Just keep her out a little while longer. Sam and Kit are checking out the house."

"They aren't going to find anything there. She left the house inside of me," she said with a bit of a hiss as the pain continued.

"How did she get to you? Did you go hunting by yourself?"

Images flashed in Evan's mind. She began to wonder if this is how Sam felt when he had one of his visions. "No. I didn't go hunting." She rubbed furiously at her temples. "I went for a jog. I was walking and I heard someone cry for help. I saw a girl beating on the window and I went in to help her. But she wasn't there."

"She committed suicide fifteen years ago, Evan," Dean told her. Evan hissed again as the pain increased, the images came faster. But it wasn't her memories. "Push it out," he told her urgently.

"No, I want to know what the hell is going on with me!" She snapped suddenly and let the images come. "She was angry. Her father died. Her mother was seeing someone else. The voices, oh god the voices. They wouldn't leave her alone," she whispered.

"Who's voices?" Dean asked her.

"I don't know. But there's something. I can't remember," she stiffened suddenly as the images left her. She let out a growl of frustration. "Damn it."

"What is it?" Dean asked her, pushing her down onto the barstool and handing her the cup of coffee she had given him.

Evan took the mug with shaking hands and took a deep drink of it, ignoring the heat. "Dean, do you have your phone? I have to call Kit."

"Uh, yeah," he said and went over to the couch to dig into his jacket pocket. He pulled out his phone and took it back to her.

Setting the mug on the counter, she flipped open the phone and dialed Sam's number.

"Hey Dean," Sam answered.

"It's me," she told him.

"Evan," he said brightly and she could hear the relief in his voice. "How are you?"

Evan couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. "I've been better," she told him. "Dean said that you found this girl."

"We're headed to the house where she lived now to see if there is something of hers there that is tying her to the house," he told her. "Hey, Kit wants to talk to you."

"Evan?" Kit came on the line.

Evan felt a flood of relief rush through her. "Hey Sis," she smiled. "You found her. I knew you would."

"Yeah. We're going to check her house out."

"I know. Sam told me. Sis, be careful," Evan cautioned her and then told her what she had remembered. "There's something about this that doesn't feel right."

"Nothing about this is right," Kit retorted.

"I know. Just, please be careful," she said with sudden urgency.

"Always Sis," Kit smiled. "How are you doing?"

"It's getting hard to push her out Kit. But without the meds from the hospital making me loopy, I'm able to for now. She's getting stronger though, and there's something almost desperate about her."

"We'll get through this Sis," Kit told her.

"Good. I want my life back," she whispered.

"You will," Kit assured her. She paused for a moment and Evan waited.

"What is it Kit?"

"I'm sorry," she said so quietly, her voice so thick with emotion that Evan almost missed it.

"For what?"

"For not believing in you."

"Don't worry about it. I've been doing the same myself," Evan said and brushed her eyes. "Call us if you find anything. Love you," she said and then hung up.

Dean looked out of the corner of his eye at her and saw the sadness on her face. He wanted to go to her, but knew she wouldn't appreciate it. Instead, he reached over and took back his coffee mug. "What are you making for dinner?" he asked her and Evan looked up at him. "Well you don't expect me to cook after what happened the last time, do you?"

"Not if we want to live," she groused and then shot him a smile. "Thanks Dean."

"For what?"

She shook her head and then slid off the barstool to go pour herself a cup of coffee.

Sam watched as Kit slowly hung up the phone. He saw the sadness on her face and reached out and took her hand. She gave him a watery smile and he squeezed her hand comfortingly. "What did she say?"

Kit sniffled and then gave her head a shake, "Sister stuff." A few minutes later Kit pulled up in front of the house. She glanced at Sam and saw him pale. "What is it?"

"This is it," he said to her. "This is the house from my vision."

"You're sure?" Kit looked at him and then out of the windshield at the house.

"Yeah, I am. Let's go check it out," he said and climbed out of the Thunderbird. "Have you got an EMF reader in the trunk?"

"Always," Kit said and popped the trunk. Propping it open, she rifled through the contents of the trunk and pulled out the reader and gave it to Sam. Kit pulled out a smaller duffel bag that was labeled "Ghosts".

"You guys labeled your stuff?" Sam looked at the other bags in the trunk. Each bag had different labels and he could only guess contained different items of use.

"Evan gets a little OCD sometimes," Kit explained with a laugh. "It comes in handy though." Slamming the trunk closed, Kit slung the bag over her shoulder and they walked up the driveway towards the house.

Sam flipped on the EMF reader just to be safe and held it out before him. It remained silent. "It's probable that we won't get any readings, especially if Stacy's spirit is in Evan," Sam explained.

"That's what she said," Kit said. "And it would explain why I couldn't get a reading at the house after Evan," she paused, still not wanting to think about that. "When she was in the hospital."

Sam walked up the front path to the door and tried to open it. "Still locked. How did she get in? I don't see any broken windows."

"Let's try around back, maybe she got in there," Kit said already starting around the back of the house.

"What do you know about this house?" Sam questioned as they walked around, peering in the windows.

"It's been here for as long as I can remember. All of these houses," Kit waved her hand towards the neighboring houses, "Were here for years. Then people started buying them up and re-developing them about twenty years ago. This house though is different. I vaguely remember someone saying that the Spencers, the people who originally owned it, brought it over from England piece by piece."

"That would have been an expensive undertaking," Sam surmised.

"Guess they had money to burn. This house, this whole neighborhood, has been quiet, spiritually speaking, for years."

"Someone must have woken her up," he said. "That's where she got in." Sam pointed to the French doors on the patio, tracing his finger over the cracked wood and the footprint. "Looks like she kicked the door in."

"That's Evan for you," Kit said and then dropped the bag from her shoulder to the stone patio. Unzipping it, she dug out two wrought iron rods, known for repelling spirits. She pulled out the shotgun filled with rounds of rock salt and handed it to Sam and then grabbed the other one for herself. She rose up and cocked the shotgun with one hand and then held an iron rod with the other.

Sam tucked the EMF reader in his pocket and grabbed one of the rods from her, and then pushed open the doors. They swung open and Sam and Kit were greeted with the musty smell of dust and mothballs.

"Look at this Sam," Kit said, pointing to the tracks in the dust on the floor.

"Evan's?"

"I think that's a safe bet," she said and then moved into the house.

Sam stepped out in front of her, the shotgun at the ready as he followed both Evan's tracks and kept his eyes out for anything else. As they moved into the living room, Sam couldn't help but shudder. It was the same living room that he had seen in his vision, but it didn't feel the same. The sheets still covered what he could only guess was furniture left by the previous owners, but it was different.

"Someone else has been here," Kit said suddenly as they reached the foyer and she saw another set of tracks in the dust.

"Well, the house is up for sale, but if it were someone showing the house, then there would be more tracks," he thought out loud.

"I think it's safe to say that it wasn't teenagers. They're a woman's tracks," Kit told him. "Those are from a pair of high heels."

"So some woman in high heels came into an abandoned house to what? Look around? Thinking about buying it?"

"I don't know Sam, but they go up the stairs. And so do Evan's tracks. So up we go," she said before stepping up the stairs. She glanced at the pictures along the walls. "This must be the Northrums." She tapped one of the pictures. "And there's Stacy."

"She looks happy here," Sam said, looking at the family portrait. "I wonder what made her unhappy enough to kill herself."

"Her father died," Kit said softly. "When I was talking to Evan, she said that Stacy's father died. Losing a loved one would be enough to drive one to do it. And it would be the perfect pain to attract a malevolent spirit."

"Why did it go after Evan?" He asked her as they walked up the stairs, following the tracks.

"She was upset," Kit told him. "About a lot of things," she added when she glanced at him and saw that he was about to say something. "I'm just trying to figure out how it knew to go after her."

"I'd say it was dumb luck, but I don't believe in that," Sam said. They reached the top floor of the house and Sam immediately began walking down the hall to Stacy's room. He pushed it open and paused in the threshold, looking at the floor of the room. "Someone conjured Stacy's spirit," he told Kit and then pushed the door open wider.

Kit stepped up beside him and stopped. She looked down at the markings on the floor and the candleholders at the points of the inverted pentagram. "It looks like a fairly basic pattern for conjuring," Kit said as she moved into the room and circled around it.

"So someone decided to conjure a spirit for kicks?"

"Stupid thing to do," Kit growled, shaking her head. "Let's get out of here."

Going back downstairs, Kit and Sam left the way they came and walked around the back of the house. They threw the equipment into the trunk of the car and then climbed in. With an angry squeal of the tires, Kit pulled the car away and headed back towards her house.

Pulling the thunderbird into the driveway, Sam frowned when he saw the pickup truck parked out in front of the house. The gleaming black paint and the chrome trim looked out of place amongst the Escalades, Navigators and BMW's parked along the street.

"We have to lay her spirit back to rest,'" Kit said as she climbed out of the car and started up the driveway.

"We have to get her out of Evan first," Sam corrected, following behind her.

"We need to get Dean and Evan back here. Do a banishing spell to get the spirit out of her and then salt and torch the bones of this Stacy bitch. That should work."

Pushing open the front door, Kit and Sam walked into the house. Kit saw her parents sitting on the couch and smiled at them before she noticed the man sitting on the chair across from them. "Oh, I didn't know you had company," she said and then took a closer look at the man.

His dark hair was shaggy and the beard he sported had some grey. But there was something familiar about him. She heard Sam breath sharply as he stopped behind her.

"Dad?"

The man stood up from the chair and looked at his son. "Sammy."

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

"You weren't kidding when you said you knew how to cook," Dean said, pushing aside his empty plate and taking a swallow of beer.

"You're welcome," Evan said with a grin as she took the plates and put them in the sink. She quickly washed the plates and put them in the rack to dry. Running her hand around in the water, her fingers touched the blade of a knife in the bottom of the sink. When she picked it up, she looked at it blankly. "She's scared you know."

Dean looked up in surprise at the tone in her voice. "Evan?"

"She's scared and lonely. And tired. So tired."

"Evan, please," Dean said, suddenly uneasy as he came off the stool and around the counter towards her. He looked down at the knife in her hand. "Give me the knife."

Evan blinked slowly and looked at him and then down at the knife. She dropped it in the water. "I'm okay. I wasn't going to do anything with it."

"You were talking about Stacy."

"I know. I can hear her," Evan touched her temple. "All she wanted was for someone to listen to her." Evan closed her eyes. "But no one would."

"I'm listening," Dean said to her and then took her hands, leading her away from the sink and over to the couch. He pushed her gently down into it. "Tell me about Stacy."

"She was angry, and she felt guilty. Her parents divorced and she thought it was her fault. Her mom started seeing someone and her Dad died. She was so angry. And that's when the voices started."

"What did they say to her?"

"That everything would be better when she was gone."

"Is that what they said to you?" Dean choked as he asked, catching sight of the bandages on her arms.

"Yes," she said tearfully.

"That's bullshit," he said suddenly. "How could you even believe that?"

Evan gave herself a little bit of shake and looked at him and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."

"Yes you do," he countered.

"I was scared," she told him honestly.

"You're never afraid," he said.

She gave him a half laugh, "Yes, I am. I worried about Kit, about you... It fed on my insecurity."

"Evan, honey, what happened to Kit was an accident. She was trying to save Sam, doing something she loved."

"But if I hadn't come home and if she hadn't come with me, than she never would have gotten hurt in the first place," she said to him.

"If your grandmother hadn't died when she did, or the way she did you wouldn't have started hunting either. You would have been married to some fat balding lawyer and had a passel of kids by now. Is that what you want?"

"No. I like what I do."

"Than don't for a minute think that if you were gone things would be better because they wouldn't."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do," he said to her.

Evan slid her hand along Dean's cheek and smiled at him. "You're one stubborn fool, you know that?" Stretching up, she pressed her lips softly to his mouth.

Dean closed his eyes and felt the warmth of her mouth against his. He raised his hand and buried his fingers into her hair, holding her mouth close, his tongue pressing against her lips and nudging between them. He felt Evan's soft moan in his mouth, and gripped her hair harder. He felt her lips open under his and kissed her harder for a moment before pulling away from her.

"Evan,"

"Dean, I know I said that we couldn't do this anymore. And I can think of all the reasons why," she said softly, a sob tearing at her throat, tears stinging her eyes and sliding down her cheek. "But right now, I can only concentrate on the one reason why we should."

Dean rose from the couch and buried his hands in her hair, holding her head and pulled her mouth to his. Evan rose up on her tiptoes and wound her arms around his shoulders, her mouth parting as the tip of his tongue pushed through to taste her. His hands slid down from her hair and across her back to wind around her waist, lifting her off the floor, walking them into the bedroom.

Evan tightened her hold on his neck and pulled herself closer to him, suddenly desperate for his kiss, the warmth of him against her. The feeling penetrated her, made her feel that if she could just hold onto him tight enough, everything would be right again.

Dean pulled his mouth away from hers with a groan, "Evan what's wrong?"

"Don't leave me," she said softly, hating the almost weak tone of her voice.

"I'm not," he assured her.

Sliding her hands from his shoulders, she plunged her fingers into his hair, recapturing his mouth. She could feel the desire welling with a sharpness she had never felt before. Her body ached for the feel of him. She needed him. Her hips ground against him. He pulled her closer and rocked his hips against her, matching her movements and Evan groaned into his mouth. She could feel him, hard against her, but she wanted more. She nuzzled her mouth against his ear, moving it down to take his earlobe between her teeth and biting on it eagerly. Dean groaned at the pain that sweet pain that her teeth caused. Taking her mouth once more, eagerly, Dean made his way quickly towards the bed.

Pulling at his shoulder with one hand, she reached for the bed with the other, nearly toppling over onto it. Dean grasped the straps of her coverall shorts and pulled them down her shoulders. He then grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head. Pushing her shoulders back onto the bed and hooked his fingers in the shorts and her panties, tugging them over her hips.

Evan raised them up to let him slide them off of her. Dropping them on the floor, Dean crawled up her legs, pressing soft kisses against the insides of her thighs, his breath teasing her sensitive skin. He nipped at the indent of her belly and felt her muscles clench. Unsnapping her bra easily, he watched her shiver as the silken cups of the bra slid across the swell of her breasts and catch on her turgid nipples. Sliding his hands up her body, he cupped her breasts and lowered his head to catch one peak in his mouth.

Evan whimpered as sensation licked through her, down to her core. She could feel the throb of desire between her legs and her muscles clenched, but that only made her more aware. He teased her nipple with the edge of his teeth, making her shudder and arch. Moving over to the other, catching it between his teeth and tugging it gently.

"Dean," she moaned, burying her fingers in his hair, holding his mouth to her.

Dean shuddered at the sound of her voice and traced biting kisses up between the valley of her breasts and along the column of her neck. Nuzzling the underside of her jaw, he heard her whimper of pleasure when he finally nipped at the delicate skin of her neck. Her fingers slid down and curled into his shirt when he began sucking on her skin, drawing it deep into his mouth, his tongue slashing over it.

Sliding her hands down his chest, Evan grasped his belt buckle and tried to focus enough to undo it, but her fingers wouldn't obey. She growled in frustration.

With one last bite to her neck, Dean raised himself up, and balanced on one knee between her legs, tugged the t-shirt over his head. Evan sat up when he reached for the belt buckle. She quickly undid it and tugged down the zipper. She slipped her fingers into the waistband and tugged his pants and boxer-briefs down over his hips. Dean stepped out of them as they pooled at his feet. She ran her hands up the front of his thighs and over his hips.

Dean grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back onto the bed, and stretched out over her, one hand sliding down her body. Evan groaned harshly as he slipped one finger in between her lips, brushing her tingling clit. She could feel her wetness gathering between her legs and she heard his growl of approval. She rocked her hips against his finger as he began to move it in slow circles. A cry was torn from her throat when she felt his long fingers slip inside of her, this thumb pressing and rubbing her clit. Evan buried her mouth against his shoulder groaning his name, her hips rocking harder and harder against him.

She could feel the tension rising in her body and knew that she was going to go over the edge. She tried to fight it, but when Dean gave a quick thrust into her, she lost control, the pleasure searing through her body was too much. Her back arched off the bed and she shouted his name over and over again, tears slid from the corners of her eyes.

"Don't cry, baby," he said soothingly to her, his fingers still sliding within her. She shuddered, her muscles clenching. Her body writhed beneath him. Her breath was ragged, her body on fire. She arched higher off the bed.

"Oh god Dean!" she screamed. Evan curled her legs around his hips and drew him closer. Dean withdrew his fingers from her and lowered his mouth to hers, catching it, taking in her whimpers of pleasure. Moving to pin her hips to the bed with his own, he rocked his hips slowly against her. His arousal rubbing against her wet lips, slipping between them. Evan pushed her hips up a little, rocking them slowly as his erection teased at her. She ground her hips harder, almost desperately against him.

There was a need in her that she couldn't hide and Dean felt it. It burrowed deep into him and ignited the fierce need of his own that he had been trying to tamp down since he had walked away from her. He had wanted to shut her out of his life, but with her here, now, he couldn't deny it any longer. He reached own and parted her lips with his fingers and pushed the thick head into her.

She looked up at him and pulled him down to her, impaling herself on his rigid erection. Her groan filled the air. He felt so good inside of her. She rocked her body faster, feeling him slide in and out of her.

"Evan, baby," he groaned.

Evan laid her hands on his shoulders, her fingers grasping him tightly. Dean groaned and drove himself into her. He buried his mouth against her neck, growling as he sank into her tight body. She rocked her hips up against him, her nipples brushing his chest as she met his thrusts. He filled her in long hard thrusts. Her nails dug at his shoulders, and she raised her head taking quick bites at the side of his neck, her groans of pleasure filling the room, his whispers and moans engulfing her.

Withdrawing from her and ignoring her groan of disappointment, Dean pulled her legs free of him and rolled her over onto her stomach, smiling at her squeal of surprise. Leaning over her, he pressed soft, feather light kisses up her spine causing her to shudder. Dean stretched himself against her back, his mouth pushing her hair aside, the tip of his tongue tracing the lines of her tattoo before he closed his teeth in a light bite at the back of her neck.

Evan groaned and dropped her head, her eyes closing. Dean bit harder and she shook, pleasure and pain searing through her. He gripped her hips and drew them up, moving between her legs and nudging them apart just enough to move between them. Evan gasped as he pushed himself back into her, the change in the position sending waves of new wanton sensations through her. Dean tipped his head back, groaning as he thrust into her. "Oh Christ, Dean," she whimpered, her body shaking as he thrust harder into her. His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her back against him.

Evan's fingers dug into the sheets, her whimpers growing louder as her body moved with him. The tension grew within her and she shook helplessly. Dean slid his hands up her back and around her body to grasp at her breasts. He pulled her up against his chest, burying his mouth against the back of her neck as he growled, pleasure and hunger filling him. He caught her nipples between his fingers and pinched them. Evan shuddered and cried out suddenly. Her body tensed as Dean thrust into her. She threw her head back, her long hair trailing down his back.

It was coming, she could feel it. Her body shook against him. She wanted to fight it but the splendor she knew it would bring was just too much. She wanted to take it all with her, the feelings, the sensations, everything. She let the waves of pleasure wash over her, her body writhing and shaking around him. Dean took hold of her hips and continued to drive himself up into her body, his groans filled the air as he pushed deeper and deeper into her.

"Evan!" Dean shouted as he drove into her one last time. She rocked her hips, holding him tightly inside of her. She could feel his body tense against her, his shoulders and chest slick with perspiration. He clenched his eyes shut and cried her name. She could feel his hot seed burst into her. She continued to hold him tightly she milked every last drop from him.

Dean slid his hand along her cheek and turned her head to the side, taking her mouth in a slow, lazy kiss, his arm curling around her waist as he shifted them on the bed and he gently laid her down, her head nestled in the fluffy pillows. He then moved in beside her and drew the covers over them. Evan broke her mouth away from his and rolled into his chest. Dean wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to his side. Evan curled her arm over his stomach and laid her head on his chest, listening to the racing beat of his heart. She felt his hand slide over the back of her head, stroking her hair.

"Dean?" Evan lay curled against him, her arm resting on his chest. He grunted a soft reply, his eyes closed. "Why did you come?" Evan brushed the hair from her eyes and pushed herself up on her elbow to look down at him. Her eyes traced over his face, following the lines of his nose, the curve of his bottom lip. "After what I said to you. You had every reason not to come when Kit called you." He took so long in answering that Evan thought he wasn't going to.

"I had to."

"Why?"

"I couldn't walk away," he said to her.

"You did in Louisiana," she reminded him.

"I was pissed," he admitted.

"I'm sorry Dean," she said softly, laying her cheek on his chest.

"It wasn't all you," he said, curling his arms around her shoulders. "I'm used to people leaving. I left so I wouldn't get hurt. I walked away from a girl I cared about once before. I didn't fight it."

"Is that why you came back?"

"I had to," he said. "You're my girl."

Evan smiled and leaned up to kiss him softly. She laid her head on his shoulder and fiddled with his pendant. Lifting it up, she saw a flash of silver underneath it. "I don't remember this one."

Dean looked down and saw what she was looking at and lifted his hand to take the pendant from her, flushing with embarrassment. "It's nothing."

"It's my cross and rose Dean," Evan looked at him. "You copied it?"

Dean swallowed. "I had it made for you."

"You did?" Evan was stunned. "When?"

"Before we got to Louisiana. I meant to give it to you when we saw you again, but things got in the way."

"Why?"

"I wanted you to have something to protect you," he said, feeling foolish.

Curling her fingers around the two pendants, Evan leaned down and kissed him softly. "Thank you."

"Go to sleep," he said gruffly and she smiled as she curled up against him. She felt the comforting warmth of his arms around her and the strong beat of his heart under her cheek. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift to sleep, knowing that he would watch out for her.

The lightening flashed in through the bedroom window, the thunder rumbled across the sky and she could feel it deep in her body. Evan tossed in her sleep, frowning. Beneath the roar of the thunder she could hear them. She tried to cry out, make them hear her, but her voice was silent.

_Kill her._

_I can't. She doesn't deserve to die._

_She wants you gone. She's trying to find a way to destroy you._

_You've already destroyed me. You keep me trapped._

_If she dies, you can be free._

Evan's eyes snapped open. The voices faded from her mind.

'Don't do this!' she thought to herself.

_I'm sorry. _

She glanced to her side and saw Dean sleeping, his face relaxed for the first time in a long time. She turned away and lifted the covers to slip silently out of the bed. She grabbed the t-shirt that Dean had been wearing earlier and pulled it over her head. She barely felt the floor under her feet as she walked over to the door and opened it. She stared blankly as she picked her way through the cabin to the sliding glass doors onto the back patio.

She walked down the steps and into the grass. The cold rain beat down on her, plastering the shirt to her body, but she didn't register it. Her skin grew cold, but she didn't feel it. She picked her way through the woods that gave the cabin privacy from the river. Making her way down the slight hill, she came to the river. She stood at the edge, staring blankly into the water. She took a step into the frigid water, then another.

Dean winced as the lightening flared across the sky again and filled the bedroom. He reached out to pull Evan closer, but came up with nothing. Frowning, he opened his eyes and found himself alone in the bed. He called her name, thinking that she had just gone into the kitchen, but she didn't answer.

Climbing out of the bed, he found his jeans and tugged them on. Going out into the living room he looked around, but couldn't see her. He shivered when he felt the cold, damp breeze through the cabin. He went over to the sliding glass doors and frowned when he saw that they were open. He was just pulling it shut when the lightening flared again and he saw something moving in the gap in the trees. His eyes widened when he saw what it was.

"Shit, Evan!" He cursed roughly and threw the doors open again. He ignored the lashing rain as he ran down the deck stairs and into the woods. The wind burned coldly at his bare chest and shoulders, the branches slapped against him, but he didn't care. His feet slid on the grass as he ran down the slope.

"Evan!" he yelled as he ran to the water's edge. She didn't turn, continuing to walk deeper into the river. Dean followed her in, gasping at the cold. "Stacy! Don't do this," he pleaded.

She turned and looked at him. He shuddered at the blank look in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I have to."

"No you don't. Don't do this," he ordered.

"I want to be free. She has to die," she replied. "Death is freedom."

Dean watched in shock as she suddenly dipped down below the water, disappearing into the darkness. "Evan!" He screamed and dove in. Opening his eyes under the murky water, he saw a brief flash of her white skin as she sunk into the water. He pushed himself down and grabbed her hand, then kicked upwards and broke the surface. He dragged Evan up above the water and hoisted her up enough to keep her afloat as he fought for a foothold on the ground.

Feeling his feet scrape the bottom, he stood up and made his way out of the water. Moving Evan in his arms, he folded his hands under her ribcage and did the Heimlich on her, forcing the water from her throat. She coughed and spit the water out. She collapsed back against him, her head lolling to the side, her body beginning to tremble from the cold, but she was breathing. He let out a pent up breath and lifted her into his arms, he laid her head against his shoulder.

"She's going to kill me," Evan whispered weakly.

"Like hell she is," he muttered as he carried her across the beach and up the slope to the cabin. Once there, he slid the glass door closed with his foot and took her into the bathroom. "We have to get you warmed up before you catch pneumonia," he said and turned the water in the shower onto cold. He helped Evan strip off the wet t-shirt and then pulled off his own wet jeans. Taking her hands, he tugged her shaking body to her feet and they climbed into the shower. She barely even noticed the cold water beating down on her.

Dean turned her in his arms and rubbed his hands briskly up and down her arms. Every few minutes he reached over and turned up the hot water, gradually increasing it so it didn't shock her system. When the water started to grow cold again, he turned off the taps and they climbed out. He handed her a large towel and she wrapped up in it and then went to the bedroom.

Evan pulled on one of the long sleeved t-shirts that he had bought her and Dean pulled on his boxer briefs. Pulling the blankets and pillows off of the bed, they went into the living room. Dean knelt down to start laying a fire in the fireplace and Evan went into the kitchen and put on the coffeepot. By the time it was done, Dean had a fire blazing away in the hearth. He sat down on the couch that he had pulled closer to the fireplace and propped some pillows up behind him. Taking the mugs from her, he set them down on the end table and waited until she sat down beside him to pull the blankets up around them. He tugged her close to him and then reached over and picked up the mugs, handing her one.

Evan sipped her coffee and was quiet for a few minutes, staring blankly into the fire. "I can't fight her anymore. She's getting too strong," she told him softly.

Dean slid his arm around her shoulders and held her tightly. "Just a little while longer." Evan finished her coffee and then curled up on the couch, feeling the heat of the fire, his body and the coffee begin to warm her. She laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

_**Chapter Fourteen**_

The sunlight was just creeping into the cabin when the shrill of Dean's cell phone jarred them awake.

"What time is it?" Dean muttered sleepily.

Evan cracked a bleary eye and looked at clock on the mantle. "It's six in the morning."

Dean groaned and reached for his jacket on the back of the couch. Digging in the pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. It was Sam. "This better be good," he growled.

"Dean, you guys gotta come back," Sam said.

"You found something?"

"Yeah, we did. But that's not all," Sam said and his voiced lowered. "Dad's here."

Dean sat up so suddenly that Evan looked at him with worry. "Dad's there?"

Evan's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at him. She immediately threw off the covers and rose from the couch. She pulled the blankets off the couch and took them into the bedroom.

"Hang on a sec Sam," Dean said and then covered the phone, calling to her. "What are you doing?"

"Tell Sam we're on our way," she said as she pulled on the coverall shorts.

"If we go back there, that spirit is going to be stronger," he told her.

"I know," she replied. "But you and Sam have been looking for your father for how long now? You don't know how long he's going to stay, and I'm not going to be the cause of you not seeing him. We're going," she said with finality. A shiver of fear ran through her at the thought of going back, but when she saw the look on Dean's face at the possibility of missing his father, it outweighed her fear.

"We'll be there in a few hours, Sam," Dean told his brother and then hung up the phone. He looked at Evan but saw the look of resolve on her face, and rose up from the couch. He shoved it back into place and took the coffee cups into the kitchen. Cleaning up the few dishes they'd used quickly while Evan made the bed, he then went into the bedroom and pulled on his damp jeans.

Evan quickly packed their few things into his duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. She took one quick look around and then walked out of the cabin and climbed into the car. She waited in the car while he took the key to the door of the main office, dropping it in the mailbox with a note that Evan had quickly written and then climbed back into the car. He drove through town and headed back towards Sacramento.

A few hours later Dean pulled the Impala up behind his father's truck. He shut off the engine and then sat there for a minute.

Evan looked at him. "What's wrong?'

"I -," he started and then stopped. He looked over at her and gave her one of his lopsided smiles. "Nothing. Let's go."

Climbing out of the car, they walked up the front path and Evan opened the front door. "Honey, I'm home!"

"Evan!" Kit and Angie called as they came out of the kitchen to hug their sister. "Are you okay?" They both asked in a rush.

"As well as can be expected with a spirit rattling around in the ol' brainpan," Evan replied dryly and Kit couldn't help but laugh.

"I don't think that's funny," Angie said with a frown.

"Evangeline!" Victoria and Edgar cried as she came down the stairs and she took her daughter in her arms. She looked over Evan's shoulder at Dean and gave him a weak smile. "There's someone here to see you."

"Where have you two been?" Edgar curled his arms around his wife and daughter and looked down at Evan with a fond smile.

"I'll tell you later," Evan said.

"Dude," Sam said as he came out of the kitchen followed by another man.

"Sammy," he said before looking over his brother's shoulder. "Dad."

"Dean," John Winchester looked at his oldest as he stepped up to him, folding his arms around his son.

Dean pulled back from his father and looked at him. "Not that I'm not glad to see you Dad, but what are you doing here?"

"I had to come and see the girls that made my sons disobey orders and abandon a job," John said and Dean glanced at Sam, who looked at him with a look that said, 'It's your turn to catch it now.'

Evan, who had until that moment had been standing beside her sister and Sam went over to Dean's side. She looked at the older man and could pick out some of the family resemblances despite the beard that covered his face. She swallowed roughly and felt a sudden shiver of nervousness run down her spine. She wiped her hand against her leg and then stuck it out towards the man. "Mr. Winchester, I'm Evan. It's nice to meet you."

John looked at the young woman and saw the slight tremble of nervousness that ran through her. He then saw the way his son moved towards her, almost protectively. "Miss Callum," he intoned slowly and then took her hand. He had to admit that her handshake was firmer than he expected. "It's nice to meet you too."

Evan looked John and then at Dean. "Um, I think you and your father need to do some catching up," she said. "And I'm hungry."

Taking her sister's and her mother's hands, she dragged them into the kitchen, leaving the Winchesters to talk.

"Are you okay dear?" Victoria questioned her daughter as they moved into the kitchen.

"I'm fine Mom," she said and then looked over her shoulder at Dean. He gave her a cocky smile and a nod.

John frowned as he walked into the living room. He turned back and looked at his sons.

"Dad, where have you been?"

"I've been hunting," John replied. "Which is more than I can say for you two."

"It's not," Sam began.

"I gave you two orders and you disobeyed," his father interrupted. "I told you to go to Pennsylvania, there are people that need you there."

"We're needed here more Dad," Dean countered.

"I can't believe you two would let yourselves be distracted by a couple of girls."

"Dad, they're not just any girls. They've helped us on a few jobs," Sam told his father. "They're Death Reapers. You wrote about them in your journal."

"I know what Death Reapers are, Sam. But these two," John shook his head and looked at his sons. "Sam said that your girl Evan is possessed. What kind of Death Reaper gets herself possessed," he said with a touch of derision.

"Dad, don't," Dean said through clenched teeth, his anger rising. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Son, I think this girl is making you lose your focus," John said to his eldest trying to make him see reason.

"Right now, I don't care what you think!" Dean snapped suddenly.

Sam looked at his brother. He had never heard Dean disagree with his father. It had in fact been the cause of a number of arguments between the two of them.

John looked at his son in surprise. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. I don't care what you think," Dean paused and shook his head. "Dad, I have never, not once, disobeyed any of your orders since I was a kid. I'm twenty-seven years old and I finally think I found _the girl_. I'm not giving up on her just cause you say so. You don't even know her!"

"Son, we have a mission to finish."

"Don't you think I know that?" Dean argued. "Even after we get the thing that killed Mom and Jess, and we will get it, there is going to be more evil to hunt. There will always be something. I know that, I'm all for that. But do you think I want to spend the rest of my life like you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" John growled back, his own anger rising, not liking the tone his son was taking.

"Do you even remember what it's like to have someone in your life?"

"Of course I do. I loved your mother. My love for her is what drives me to find the son-of-a-bitch that killed her. That used to be what you wanted too," John said, his anger turning cold.

"I know you loved Mom. And finding the thing that killed her is still my main goal. But how can you deny Sam and I the chance to have that for ourselves? I found it Dad. I am not going to let it go."

"You thought that Cassie was _the girl_," John argued back. "And look what happened with that."

"No, Cassie wasn't the one for me. She couldn't accept what I do. She couldn't have bluffed her way through a fencing fight with a master vampire, and there was no way she could have attacked a werewolf without flinching. But Evan and Kit? They know what we do and they are just as dedicated to killing every evil thing there is as we are."

"Dean," John began, but his son cut him off.

"Dad, they've helped us before. Now Evan needs our help," Dean paused taking a deep breath and closed his eyes, pushing aside the lump that clawed at his throat. "This spirit that's got her," he shook his head. "It's tried to kill her twice now. It's weakening her and I don't know how much longer she's gonna be able to fight it. I asked you for help once before Dad, when we went back to Lawrence, and you didn't. But you're damn well gonna help us now."

John looked at Dean and saw the resolve on his face. "Can't say I like taking orders from my son," he began. "This girl better be worth it."

"It tried to kill her again?" Sam questioned his brother.

"Yeah. Last night. It tried to drown her in the river," Dean told him gruffly.

"Is it safe to come in?" Evan said from around the corner of the living room and the three of them turned to look at her. "Or should I come back?"

"We're done," John said to her and then shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.

"Dean, you might want to get out of those damp jeans," she said to him. "And then apparently we have some research to do."

Dean brushed at his suspiciously damp eyes. "What did you guys find at the house," he asked his brother.

"There was an inverted pentagram on the floor of the girls bedroom. It looked like a pretty basic conjuring spell, but I've never seen it before," Sam told them.

"I know I've seen it in Nan's things," Kit said as she came into the living room.

"Someone conjured this thing?" Evan questioned them, the surprise registering on her face.

"It looks like," Sam replied.

"So if we find the conjuring spell, then Nan should have the corresponding banishment spell and we can banish the sucker," Kit replied.

"Sounds like a plan," Evan said to them. "And sooner the better."

"Okay Plan Girl," Dean muttered and then grabbed Evan's hand as she reached out to swat him, sending her a smile.

John watched his sons with the two girls and felt a sudden stab of guilt. He had been so driven for so long, and had pushed his boys so much over the years that they had never had a chance to be free like this. Sam, he could see, was finally ready to move on from losing Jess, and Dean. Well Dean had never disobeyed him over a girl before.

"Mom's things are all in the attic," Victoria said to them.

"Sooner we find the banishment spell the better," Evan muttered and took the stairs two at a time to the top floor. She reached up and tried to grab for the pull cord to the stairs but couldn't. Dean came up behind her and grabbed it, pulling it down for her. He gave her a cocky grin and she glared at him.

Up in the attic John, Dean and Sam looked around in amazement. Bookshelves took up three of the four walls and each was crammed with books and different occult items. There were different jars of items that none of them wanted to know what was in them.

Along part of the final wall there were large steamer trunks that bore inlaid pentagrams and other symbols that they couldn't recognize. There were two large, comfy looking couches and a table set up off to the side of the large attic.

"Holy crap," Sam breathed and looked at Kit. "This is all of your grandmothers things?"

"She was a Reaper for a long time. And a lot of this stuff is from others like her, passed on when they died," she replied.

"This is what we couldn't fit in the car," Evan explained. "We took a little bit of everything so we had pretty much everything covered."

"This room gives me the creeps," Angie said from the doorway, having followed them up despite herself.

"I love this room," Evan smiled as she looked around. "It reminds me of Nan."

"Me too," Kit grinned.

"You have a book of Demonology?" John wandered around and looked at the bookshelves.

"A few, actually," Kit told him. "All organized by demon type."

Sam looked at his father. "Do you think that the demon that killed Mom could be in here?"

"It's possible," John replied, then looked at the girls. "Can I take a look?"

"Of course," Kit and Evan said at once, and Kit went on. "I don't remember reading anything about what Sam and Dean described, but then I wasn't looking for something like that last time I was up here."

"Where the hell do we begin?" Dean wondered, looking around the attic.

"I guess we start from the beginning. Look through Nan's journals and conjuring books," Evan said, looking around trying for herself to find a beginning point.

"So I guess we each take a book," Sam said and grabbed one of the leather bound journals.

"What did this thing look like?" Evan asked them as she tilted her head, looking at the names along the spines of the books.

Kit described the drawing on the floor of the bedroom. "At first I thought that it might be just a teenage prank."

"What makes you think it wasn't?" Angie asked them. Kit and Evan looked at their youngest sister. Kit frowned slightly when she noticed that Angie looked ill at ease.

"Because it was too specific a drawing. Precise and accurate," Sam interjected.

"What will finding this drawing do?"

"Why are you asking Angie? You don't believe in this stuff. You said so yourself," Kit asked her.

"I just want to know," Angie said and her voice cracked for a second.

"I guess because the house was abandoned, Stacy's spirit had gone dormant. This spell woke it up. If we find out which spell it was than we can reverse it."

"What makes you think Nan has the spell?" Angie pushed.

"Because Nan had the most complete collection of spells and magick workings that I know of," Kit said.

"It sounds like a common banishing spell," John said, looking up from the book he had taken down and was flipping through.

"I know," Kit agreed. "I know I've seen it in one of these books. And I might have known which one it was if you hadn't gone crazy with the organizing," Kit looked at her sister, then back at the books which had been shelved in order according to date of entry.

"So sue me for having worked in the library," Evan replied.

"And you thought our arguments were weird," Dean said to Sam who smirked.

Evan turned and stuck her tongue out at Dean. She then grabbed a stack of books and sat down on one of the couches and sat cross-legged, opening the first book and flipping through it.

A few hours and many books later, they were ready to give up. Evan was stretched out across the couch, holding the book up above her head as she flipped through it, her bare feet resting on Dean's thigh as he flipped through another book.

Kit and Sam were intently looking through a stack of other books, Sam curled into the corner of the couch, Kit leaning against his shoulder. John was absorbed in the Demonology books, making notes in a journal similar to the one that Sam and Dean carried.

_They're hiding things from you._

Evan gasped suddenly as the voice ripped through her head. She dropped the book and grabbed at her temples, rubbing them hard as she rose from the couch.

"Shit, Evan!" Kit cried and came over to her sister's side. Sam stood behind her and watched the blood drain out of Evan's face, making her go frighteningly pale.

"It's happening again isn't it?" Dean set down his book and leaned over rubbing Evan's temples slowly.

"It hurts," she whimpered. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to push the thoughts away. Her legs buckled beneath her and she fell to the floor.

"Evan, look at me," he said softly and she opened pain filled eyes up to him and he saw the sudden flash of black in her eyes. "Think of your spider, think of a waterfall, anything. Push it aside," he ordered her gently.

"Is she going to be okay?" John asked his son, having set the book down and coming over to the couch.

"Yeah, she is," Dean told his dad.

Evan took a deep breath, closed her eyes and called up the image of a waterfall. The voices and the pain slowly subsided. When she looked up at him again, she saw the relieved look on his face. "It's getting worse," she said. "The more I fight it, the more it hurts."

"But you can fight it. That's the good thing," Dean told her with confidence.

"Do you want me to get you some aspirin?" Angie asked her, looking worriedly at her sister.

"No. I don't want to take anything like that. But I could go for a glass of water," she smiled weakly at Angie.

"Sure. I'll be right back," Angie said and then rose and left the attic.

"We have to get that thing out of her," Sam stated.

Kit reached over and picked up the book that she had dropped. "We better find it soon," she muttered and then started flipping through the book again. "There's a page missing here," Kit said suddenly a few minutes later, sitting up and frowning at the book as she flipped through the pages before and after.

"Are you sure?" Evan asked, looking at her sister, turning her head on the couch.

"Yeah. You can see the edge of the paper where it's been torn out," Kit said, showing the book to them. "And it's the only page missing," Kit said as she flipped through the rest of the book.

"It could be nothing Sis. These books are old," Evan said.

Kit sent her a skeptical look. "But why that one page?" Kit said.

"Because that's the page I took," Angie said from the stairs. She stepped up into the attic and came over to them. She avoided looking at them as she dropped a piece of rumpled paper onto the table.

Kit reached out a hand and pulled the page closer. The paper was old and covered in her grandmother's handwriting. She stared at the drawing on the page, then looked up at her sister in disbelief. "You were the one who called the..." she stopped, unable to finish as anger welled up in her throat.

"Angie? What have you done?" Evan said, sitting up on the couch.

"I'm sorry," Angie choked, tears sliding down her face. "I didn't know."

"Why would you do it?" Kit asked, her heart thudded heavily in her chest. Sam laid his hands on her trembling shoulders.

"I didn't really think it would do anything," Angie sniffled and pressed shaking hand to her mouth.

"You don't even believe in this! Why would you meddle in something you know nothing about?" Kit shouted suddenly, rising to her feet.

Angie opened her mouth and then shut it to stifle a sob. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Ange, why?" Evan stared at her.

"To bring you two home," she said miserably.

"What do you mean bring us home?" Evan stammered.

"We hadn't heard from you about coming home for the wedding. I thought that if you heard that there was some kind of paranormal activity here you would come home for sure," Angie said miserably. She wasn't prepared for the sharp slap that Kit gave her.

"How could you do something so stupid?" Kit demanded.

"Kit, calm down," Sam whispered in her ear.

"Angie, do you realize what you've done?" Evan choked out, rubbing her temples as a laugh echoed in her mind. She groaned and began to rock as it grew louder.

"I'm sorry!" Angie cried suddenly watching her sister sit down on the couch, groaning. "I just wanted you to come home!"

"Stop it, stop it, stop it," Evan whimpered. Dean curled his arms around her shoulders and held her tight.

"Get out," Kit said, looking at her little sister then sat down with Evan.

"Kit," she began, then looked at Evan. "I'm sorry."

"I said get out!" Kit yelled at her.

"I think you should go," John said and then put his hand to the small of her back, leading her trembling form to the stairs. He followed her down, and then looked back over his shoulder as his sons closed rank around Evan and Kit.

Down in the kitchen, Victoria took one look at her daughter's miserable face and folded her into her arms and walking her into the living room to talk to her.

John sat down at the kitchen table and shook his head. Whatever he expected when he came here to see his boys, this wasn't it. He looked up when the beer bottle was settled in front of him.

Edgar pulled out a chair and settled down into it, twisting the cap off his own bottle. "This isn't the life I wanted for my girls," he said quietly, taking a long sip of the cold brew.

John smiled wryly. "It's not what I wanted for my boys either."

"I wanted them to have nice, normal lives," Edgar returned the wry smile.

"We had a nice normal life up til my wife was killed. I never believed in this kind of stuff until then."

"I still have a hard time with it sometimes," Edgar admitted.

"It's all I can think about now. Until the thing that killed Mary is found and destroyed," John looked at him and realized for the first time that he wasn't alone in this.

"My girls will help you," Edgar surprised himself by saying. He didn't want his daughters to be involved in this kind of life. "They do know what they're doing."

"It's my boys I want them to help," John said quietly.

"I think that's a definite possibility," Edgar chuckled.

John smiled a little and took a sip from his beer. "I think so too."

_**Chapter Fifteen**_

Evan sat on her bed with her legs crossed Indian style and watched them with a little bit of trepidation as they drew a large pentagram around her bed and sprinkled protective lines of salt along the floor as well. "Okay, really not loving this," she groused. "I'm used to being on the outside of the circle."

"Well tough, this time you're on the inside. Sam will read the incantation, I'll trap Stacy's spirit once it's out of you, and Dean will pull you out of the circle," Kit replied as she looked at the page and finished drawing the letters in chalk. "So quit bitching. This will be over quickly."

"What do you want me to do?" Angie asked quietly from the doorway of Evan's bedroom, flinching as Kit looked at her.

"Stay far the hell away, for starters," Kit replied through clenched teeth.

"Wait downstairs with Mom and Dad and John," Evan said quietly. "This is something we need to do."

Angie opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, nodded and left the doorway to go downstairs

"Okay, the circles are drawn, we have Nan's Protection Incense burning," Kit muttered more to herself as she looked over the page.

"Is that what smells foul?" Dean questioned from beside the bed.

"Yeah. Smelly, but it works," Evan said with a grin.

Kit handed Sam the paper and then went to Evan's desk and grabbed three of the white candles and handed them to Dean. "Put these on the points of the star." She went back to the desk and grabbed the last two while Dean placed them on the points. Placing them on the last points she picked the white handled athame off of the desk.

Sam looked at the page and read the Latin words, silently practicing them. He then looked up. "Why is this stuff always in Latin?" He asked them.

"Would you rather ancient Aramaic?" Dean asked him, then flushed when they looked at him in stunned silence. "Yeah, I know languages. Some of them."

"Are we ready?" Kit grinned.

"As we'll ever be I guess," Evan said and then gave them a tremulous smile. "Is this going to hurt?"

"Probably," Kit said and grinned at her sister, hoping to relieve her.

"Great," Evan grumped.

"We'll try and make it quick," Sam told her, finding himself grinning at the look on her face.

Kit looked at her sister. "You ready?"

Evan plastered a brave smile on her face and then laid back on the bed her arms at her sides and closed her eyes. "Let's get'er done."

"Dean stand just outside the circle, but be ready to pull her out," Kit said as she closed the curtains, blocking out the bright sunlight. She then circled the bed, lighting the candles. "Now Evan, I need you to relax. Don't fight it," she instructed her sister and saw her nod. Standing beside the bed, the athame raised as Kit made the sign of the pentacle in the air above her sister.

"Nos dico super Tutela servo nos dum nos operor is opus," she recited in Latin, calling upon the Guardian spirits to watch over them.

Sam looked down at the page and slowly began to recite the passage written on the page, "Licentia is somes, licentia is mens, phasmatis intus EGO vadum redimio."

Evan stiffened on the bed, and clenched her eyes shut. A low pain filled her head.

Sam continued. "Licentia is somes, licentia is mens, sileo quod pacis vos vadum reperio."

Kit watched the blood drained from her sister's face. She glanced at Sam and saw his eyes widen as he looked at Evan. "Keep going." Sam nodded and repeated the first line of the ritual.

The pain grew. It trapped her breath in her lungs. Evan could hear the cry of pain and then realized that it was her own.

Dean watched Evan on the bed, her body tensing, her back arching off the mattress. She tipped her head back and let out a cry of pain. He looked at Kit and saw her shake his head at him. He could see the uncertainty and fear in her eyes. Sam heard the cry and looked at Evan.

"Keep going Sam," Kit urged him and he forced himself to look down at the page again. He stammered a little.

Evan screamed suddenly and spasmed on the bed. Her eyes snapped open and she turned her head to look at Kit, who paled as she looked at her sister. Evan's eyes were black as night and empty. Like a doll's eyes. "Oh god."

"God has nothing to do with it, Bitch," Evan said suddenly, her voice cold and harsh. And not hers.

Sam and Dean looked at Evan and felt their blood run cold as she sat up on the bed. Dean turned to his brother. "This isn't going to work."

"Smart boy," Evan growled suddenly and turned black eyes on him. "You can't get rid of me."

"Evan?" Kit looked at her sister.

The laugh that came from Evan's body chilled them to the core. The malevolence in it reached out and caught hold of them.

"That's not Evan, and that's not Stacy," Dean said suddenly, his eyes widening in understanding.

"You're not as dumb as everyone thinks you are," Evan growled cruelly.

"Son of a bitch!" he muttered.

"Let go of her," Kit cried and stepped closer to the bed. She screamed as an invisible force caught her around the waist and threw her back. She hit the bookshelf against the wall and fell to the floor, stunned. Covering her head as the books rained down on her Kit looked at her sister in fear.

Evan's body jerked up and there was a soft cry of pain beneath the horrible laugh that issued from her mouth. She hung in the air above the bed and glared at them. Looking at Sam, she waved a hand and the paper he held burst into flames. With a flick of her wrist, she forced him to his knees and he gripped his head and crying in pain.

"Stop it!' Dean screamed in anger as he rushed to his brother's side. "Sammy?"

"Make it stop!" Sam cried in agony, blood started to drip from his nose.

"Evan please, I know you're in there," Dean pleaded, looking up at her. "You gotta make it stop."

"She can't help you," it laughed and he watched in horror as her face twisted for a moment and he was filled with a sense of evil.

"Let go of her," he gritted through clenched teeth. He rose and curled his hands at his sides.

"Sorry, I can't do that. I need her dead," the voice spilled out of her.

"No freaking way!" He shouted and then ran at her. He crossed over the protective circle and grabbed her legs, pulling her down from the air and onto the bed. Her body struggled but he held her down. "Kit! Get over here!" he called, trying to hold Evan's bucking form down.

"What do we do?"

"Give me a hand. Maybe we can hold her down long enough for Sam to find something. Dad's journal has some exorcism rituals."

Kit scrambled up from the floor, crawling onto the foot of the bed to help pin Evan's thrashing form to the bed. Evan's body bucked upward violently, trying to dislodge the weight holding her down. Dean threw himself forward, hoping if he kept himself low enough, it wouldn't be able to buck him off. His pendant swung wildly between them, before it bumped Evan gently just under her chin.

The thing that was riding roughshod through Evan screamed, retreating quickly enough that the black bled from her eyes, and she fell limply to the bed. She pushed weakly at him and he let her wrists go. Kit let go of her ankles and Evan crawled to the top of the bed and curled into a fetal position, shaking and whimpering softly. When he moved closer to her, she flinched and tried to crawl further away.

"This isn't your garden variety spirit," Sam said weakly from the floor.

"There was something else in that house," Dean said and looked at Evan. "And we have to find out what it was."

Evan sat in the chair at the window and stared blankly out onto the street. She twined a long strand of her hair between her fingers and rocked slowly, her voice low as she muttered almost incoherently. She had been like that ever since the banishing ritual.

Dean walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. She flinched and turned blank green eyes on him and his heart twisted.

"Death," she muttered softly, then turned her gaze back onto the street, words pouring out of her in a rush, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Death all around.. voices in their heads.. whispers and picking... picking at their souls... taking them apart... wanting death... needing death... feeding on it.. growing whole.. coming to destroy.. growing and growing... bring pain and hurt... only way to make them go away is to stop... let the blackness come...take it away and make it whole... fight when it's whole... Death is freedom."

"What the hell happened?" Edgar demanded of them, staring at his daughter locked in her mental prison.

"There wasn't just a ghost in that house. There was something else. Something powerful," Kit explained, holding the ice pack to her shoulder.

Sam sat on the couch rubbing his temples, his head still aching from whatever it had done to him. "It's some kind of demon," he said slowly as he typed into his computer.

"A demon?" Victoria paled and collapsed onto the couch, pressing a shaking hand to her mouth. "Oh my god."

"Yeah. And it's still inside of her," Dean added, still kneeling in front of Evan.

"You okay son?" John asked, seeing his youngest pale.

"Yeah. It just kept pushing all these thoughts into my head. I can still see them. They're pretty gruesome," Sam told them.

"Sam, check for anything on that house," Kit said and winced as she moved. "Hauntings, demons, anything."

"I'm on it," he said, shifting on the couch.

"You think there might be something up in Nan's journal's about it?" Angie asked them.

"If there's something on that house, it'll be in there," Kit said, and headed towards the door to go upstairs.

John, Edgar and Victoria looked at Dean who hadn't moved from Evan's side as she stared out the window, her voice low as she continued to mutter.

"Son? You coming?" John asked him. Dean looked at him and then back at Evan. "We'll just be upstairs."

"I'll stay with her Dean," Angie said to him.

"I don't want you anywhere near her," he said stiffly to the young woman and she paled at the anger in his voice.

"Dean, it's her sister," Sam said, surprised at his brother.

"Yeah, the one who caused this mess in the first place by playing with things she didn't understand."

"I won't let anything happen to her," Angie said urgently and came towards him. "I know what I did was wrong. And I'm sorry for it. I never meant this to happen, but I promise you that I'll watch her."

Dean rose up and stood before Angie, the muscle in his jaw jerking under his skin. After a moment, he nodded his head and walked out of the living room and took the stairs two at a time to the landing and then up the collapsing stairs to the attic.

Sam brought his computer up into the attic and quickly powered it up. He pulled up a search engine and began typing in what he was looking for while the others flipped through the books, hunting.

"I think I found something," Sam said a short time later. "The Spencer house. Brought over here by James Spencer from England in 1892."

"That's it," Kit said looking up from the book. "What does it say?"

"A whole lot of nothing. Mainly about the architecture of the house," he said, then looked deeper. "Here's something though. One of the builders hired to put it back together once it was brought over committed suicide in one of the rooms of the house. That was in 1893."

"Anything else?"

"In 1900, one of the Spencer children hung themselves in the attic," he told them.

"I have something too," Victoria said as she looked through one of the journals. "There's a notation in here about Marion Spencer."

"That's the name of the child that hung herself," Sam said

"This notation, made by," Victoria flipped back to the first page of the journal, "Isaac Ames, a Reaper, said that there was a symbol scratched into the floor under the body. But he was forced out of the house by the family before he could get a good look at it."

"Keep looking Sam," Dean ordered. "Everybody keep looking."

"I have something," John said, looking up from the journal he'd been looking through. "1922. Charles Fisher. Committed suicide in the master bedroom. Family and friends said that he had been acting strangely before he died. There was a sigil scratched into the head board."

"Charles Fisher," Sam typed the name into the computer. "Bought the house from the Spencers before it could be foreclosed on by the bank. After the death of the daughter Marion, the Spencer family fortune dwindled."

"Dad, do you have the title history of the house from the bank?" Kit asked him suddenly.

"Yes, I picked it up earlier," Edgar said and then left the attic. He came back a few minutes later with a folder in his hand. "James Spencer, original owner, sold to Charles Fisher. Inherited by nephew Ian Jamison."

Sam typed the new name into the computer. "Ian Jamison's son shot himself in 1930."

"Clark Jamison, son of Ian Jamison," Kit said suddenly. "There was a sigil found on the wall of the bedroom where Clark shot himself. And it gives a picture. Sam, check out the demon sites. See if you can find this sigil," she said, showing him the page.

"I found another entry," Victoria said. "1945. Angela Johns overdosed in the living room. There's another picture of the sigil."

"So far that's five deaths in that house," Dean said. "People who have either owned the house or lived in it."

"Not just deaths. Suicides," Kit said. "And Stacy makes at least six."

"So why didn't anyone notice this before?" Edgar asked them.

"The police wouldn't have been looking at it the same way as we do. They would have dismissed the sigil, not knowing what it was. And with it being a suicide, any investigation would have been minimal," John explained.

"But all those suicides happened in the house. If this thing made Evangeline do what she did, why here? She wasn't in the house when she did it."

"Because when it possessed Evan, she took it out of the house. It just needed a body to reside in," Dean surmised.

"So Stacy's spirit was in the house because she killed herself there?" Victoria questioned.

"No," Sam said. "The sigil belongs to a Teflok demon."

"A what? I've never heard of it," John said with a frown.

"It's a demi-demon. It feeds off of a person's insecurity, fears and drives the person to suicide. It then holds the spirit of the person and uses it to possess the next."

"So this demon was using Stacy's spirit to possess Evan and force her to kill herself?" Kit said more to herself, trying to work it out.

"To what end?" Edgar questioned aloud.

"To cross over," Dean said as realization dawned on him. "Downstairs, Evan said something about feeding on death, needing it. Becoming whole. This demon wants to come into our world."

"Demons are normally found in the astral plane," Victoria explained to Edgar. "Usually a sacrifice can open the gateway between that plane and our world."

"And you said you wouldn't have made a good Reaper," Kit laughed at her mother.

"I like the research, hate the fighting," Victoria answered.

"But when Evan cut herself, there was no sigil. There was no sign of anything," Kit said in confusion.

Dean looked at the sigil on the computer screen. "I've seen it before," he said suddenly.

"Where?" Sam asked him.

"Damn it. I knew something was strange about them," he muttered and left the attic. The others looked at each other in confusion and then trooped out behind him.

"Evan, honey," Dean said and knelt in front of Evan. She flinched at the touch of his hand. "It's okay. It's just me."

"You found something?" Angie asked as they all came back into the living room.

"Yeah, we did," Kit said. "Dean? What are you doing?" She questioned when he took Evan's one arm and gently pushed up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. He pulled the tapes holding the bandage on her arm free and lifted the gauze from her wounds. Sam and Kit came over and looked down at Evan's arm. "Oh my god," Kit breathed.

"It made her cut the sigil into her arm," Sam closed his eyes and pushed aside a wave of nausea.

Dean pushed up the other sleeve and lifted the bandage. "Both of them." He carefully reapplied the bandages and pulled her sleeves down again.

"It feeds on death," Evan whispered. "It feeds and grows. Death is freedom. Destroy it when it's whole."

Dean cupped his hand behind Evan's head and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head before rising to his feet. "I saw the marks when we were at the cabin. I didn't think anything of it."

"This thing may be a demon, but that banishing spell should have forced it out," Kit said.

"The sigil on her arms kept it from working. Protected it against any type of banishment," Sam replied.

"It scarred her for life to protect itself?" Angie shook his head, misery tearing at her. "Oh my god, what have I done?"

"We have to kill that thing," Dean muttered in anger.

"How?" Sam questioned his brother.

"I'm working on it."

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

Hours later he still didn't know what he was going to do. Dean sat on the end of the couch, one of Elizabeth Rennie's journals open on his lap, flipping through the weathered pages.

"How is she?" Angie asked him softly as she came up the stairs into the attic. She handed him a cup of coffee and then sat on the corner of the other couch, her legs curled up underneath her.

Dean glanced at Evan who lay stretched across the couch, her head pillowed on his thigh. Her eyes had finally slid closed an hour before, but he doubted that she was truly asleep. Her body was restlessly twitching and her mouth moved in silent muttering.

"I don't know," he said honestly, shaking his head. "Where is everybody?"

"They're all asleep. It's three in the morning," she told him and Dean glanced at his watch in surprise. Angie looked at her sister miserably. "I know you don't like me right now. But believe me, I just wanted them to come home. I didn't want this to happen," she said.

"How I feel doesn't matter. We can't change the past," Dean told her. "What we need to do is find a way to draw the demon out of her, and then kill it."

"If you kill it, will she all right?" Angie asked him as she sipped her coffee.

"I don't know."

"I want to help," she told him.

"There's got to be something here in these books," he told her. Evan jerked suddenly and Dean laid his hand on her shoulder and she seemed to calm a little. He adjusted the blanket over her and then turned back to the book he was leafing through.

Angie watched him and smiled faintly. "You love her don't you."

Dean looked at her. "No. She's a constant pain in the ass."

"Uh huh," Angie grinned suddenly.

"Don't tell her. It'll go to her head," he said gruffly before turning back to the journal.

There was a stunned silence around the living room before near chaos erupted.

"Are you insane?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Do you realize what you're saying?"

"How could you even suggest such a thing?"

Dean sat on the window seat beside Evan, who stared off into space, unaware of the discussion going on around her. He scrubbed his hands through his hair and then rubbed his tired eyes. He'd been up all night reading through the dusty old journals and watching over Evan as she lay curled up on the couch in the attic, and searching the net trying to find a way to help her.

"It's not like I particularly relish the thought myself, but I'm really not seeing another option," he said to them.

"We did some more looking last night," he said. "Angie, wanna tell them what you found?"

Angie looked around the room at each of them. "This demon needs thirteen souls to come across into this plane. As far as I can tell from the journals, Evan is the last one. Which means that if this succeeds in killing her it will come across into our world."

"And this thing is not going to stop until it kills her," Dean told them.

"But what your suggesting is," Edgar began, then shook his head. "No."

"I don't know what else to do," Dean admitted.

"Maybe Dad's friend Caleb can help," Sam said of his father's old friend. "I called and left him a message."

"He already called back," Dean told them all. "He's searched and couldn't find anything. This is our last option."

"Son, you can't be serious," John said.

"I am Dad. I wish to hell I wasn't. The banishing spell didn't work. And now look at her!" He said with sudden anger, gesturing to Evan who sat twining a strand of hair through her fingers and staring up at the ceiling, muttering quietly. "It's got its hooks in her and it's not letting go until it gets what it wants. In the state that she's in now? She's not going to survive."

"But you're talking about killing her," Victoria said in horror.

"And if Evan dies, Stacy's spirit will leave her body," Kit said, realizing what Dean was saying.

"Exactly," Dean said.

"But if she's the thirteenth one, that will bring the demon over," John said.

"Yes, it will. But it will be out of Evan despite the marks on her arms," Dean explained. "And once it's manifested in a physical form, than we do what we do best."

"Kill the son of a bitch," Kit said and Dean nodded.

"You want to use our daughter as bait?" Edgar demanded angrily. "I can't let you."

"Look, the truth of the matter is this: Evan is going to die. That thing is going to keep trying. What we have to decide is if its going to be our way, or the demon's way," Dean stood up from the window seat and placed his hands on his hips staring at Edgar. "If the demon does it, we have no chance of saving her. But if we do it our way, we can get her back."

"What are you thinking Dean?" Kit asked him.

"I can't say, not in front of her. We don't know how much of what we say the demon might pick up on."

"You want me to agree to something that you've planned and not even know what it is?" Edgar demanded. "No."

"You're going to have to trust me," he replied.

"Dad," Angie interjected. "Please. Trust him. I do."

"You don't even believe in this," Victoria said to her youngest daughter.

"I didn't. And I wish I still didn't. But what Dean is planning can work."

"Dean," Kit began and he turned and came over to her and laid his hands on her shoulders, looking at her.

"Kit, remember what you told me in Louisiana?"

"If you hurt my sister I wouldn't have to were out to rip you to shreds," Kit muttered remembering that time so clear.

"Exactly. I'm not doing this to hurt her. I want to save her."

"But without knowing what you want to do," she began hesitantly.

"If this thing gets an idea of what were going to do, it'll destroy her here and now. It has the power to do it."

She looked off to the side at her sister, a prisoner in her own mind and body and a sob clawed at her throat. Turning to look up at him, tears wetting her eyes. At the intent look on his face, Kit nodded. "All right."

"This is not something to do lightly," Dean told them as he stood up. "And that's why we need everyone to agree to this. Once she's gone and that demon comes over, Sam, Kit and I are going to be busy killing it. It's going to be up to you guys to bring Evan back."

"This is insane. Why are we even considering this?" Edgar asked them.

"I wouldn't, but I want Evan back," Dean said to the man, his face a stony mask.

"Dad, as much as it scares the hell out of me, I will do whatever it takes to get her back," Kit said to her father.

John looked at his son and saw the resolve on his face. "I'm in, son."

"But doesn't it have to be suicide?" Victoria asked them. "Wouldn't this be murder?"

"We're going to give her the choice," Dean said.

"Dude, she's in no condition to make a decision like that," Sam began.

"I know that, but you think the demon cares? All that matters is that Evan makes the choice. Kit, do you still have that GHB?"

"It's still in the trunk of the car," she said hesitantly. "You're going to overdose her?"

"No," he assured her. "I just don't want her to feel anything. Can you get it for me?"

"Sure," she said and then looked at Sam who shrugged. She returned a few minutes later with the little vial and handed it to Dean.

"I don't even want to know why you have that," Victoria said to her daughter.

"Perfect," he said to himself and tucked it into his back pocket. He then dug in the front jeans pocket and pulled out the list that he had scribbled down and handed it to his father. "The rest of you, I need you to get what's on that list."

John looked at the list then back at his son. "All of this stuff?"

Dean nodded. "And lots of it. And I need you to take it all over to the Spencer house."

"Why there?" Edgar asked him.

"That's its center of power. Its stronger there," he said to them.

"Do we really want it to be any stronger?" Sam said to his brother.

"I know, but all of this started there. It should end there," he said with a shrug. "Sam, Kit I need you to go get the house ready. Salt all the doors and windows. And put some brick dust down for good measure. Leave one door for us to get in though. Get all the weapons out, have them ready. The rest of you, I need you to be ready to go once Evan and I get to the house. I need you to go now."

"What are you going to do?" Sam asked him.

"I'm going to make a deal with a demon Sammy," Dean said firmly.

Kit went over to her sister and hugged her tightly, whispering, "See you soon Sis," before she took Sam's hand and they went out to the car.

Victoria and Edgar rose from their seats and went over to the unaware form of their daughter. Victoria kissed her cheek softly and Edgar whispered against the top of her head. "I love you, honey." They then looked at Dean and rushed out of the house.

John rose from his spot on the couch and looked at his son. He laid his hand on his shoulder and looked about to say something, but changed his mind and walked out of the house behind Edgar and Victoria.

Angie gave her sister a hug and then went out to her own car and pulled out of the driveway.

Once the house was empty, Dean went into the kitchen and rooted through the cupboards until he found the glasses. He then pulled a bottle of soda out of the fridge and filled the glass. Taking the vial out of his pocket, he poured enough of the clear liquid into the soda to put her to sleep and mixed it in.

Going back out to the living room, he set the glass on the coffee table and sat down on the chair and watched her for a little while as she stared off into space at the ceiling. She twined a long lock of her hair through her fingers restlessly and her mouth moved in a silent litany. He glanced at his watch and then back to Evan, reminding himself that what was sitting in front of him, while technically her, wasn't. A nervous energy ran through him as the time ticked by slowly. He had to give the others time enough to get everything set up.

Once he'd given them a half an hour start, he stood before her and snapped his fingers in front of her face. Evan lowered her head and looked at him, frowning slightly in confusion. "I know you're in there you son of a bitch," he said.

The green of her eyes flashed and turned black. A cruel smile crossing her full mouth. "Mmm, so much anger in you. So much uncertainty. I like it."

"I'm not uncertain," Dean said, forcing all thoughts from his mind, thinking only of Evan's stuffed spider. "You want Evan to die so you can come into our world. Fine, you get your wish. But she dies our way, not yours."

"You'd simply let her die?" The demon seemed surprised.

"You were right before, those girls were just bodies to me. So is this one," he said ignoring the way his heart twisted as the words left his mouth. "And if killing her brings you into our world so I can kill your sorry ass, than so be it."

A malevolent laugh erupted from her and the black eyes stared into him. "You think you can kill me?"

"Step into my world and find out," Dean replied through clenched teeth. "But I want to talk to Evan first."

"Why? To say good bye?" She chuckled coldly.

"Why do you care?" he gritted out.

"Why should I?" the demon questioned.

"Why not? You're getting your wish."

A shudder ran through Evan's body and her eyes drifted closed. When they opened, she looked up at him and shook her head slightly.

"Evan, are you okay?" He asked her, trying to keep calm.

"Dean it hurts. Please help me," she said softly, her voice cracking. "I can't stay like this."

"You won't have to," he assured her.

"Where's Kit? And my family?" she asked him.

"They're getting something ready. I've got an idea."

Evan smiled softly and looked at him. "You becoming Plan Boy?"

"Someone has to," he said gently.

"Guns blazing?" she grinned weakly.

"Nope, not exactly," he grinned cockily at her.

"So what is it?"

"Can't tell you that," he said.

"Okay..." she said cautiously.

"I need you to drink this," he said and reached to grab the glass from the table to hand her. "But before you do, I have to tell you, that in order to release Stacy and the demon, you have to die."

Evan paled, "Suddenly not liking this plan."

"I know, Sweetheart, but we have to stop this demon. I need you to trust me on this."

Evan stared at him and bit her bottom lip. The green eyes that looked back at her intently were filled with an uncertainty that she had never seen in him before. And something else. She peered deeper, trying to figure it out, but then it was gone. Fear ran through her, she was putting her life into his hands, but as she traced her gaze over his face she was filled with a sudden calm.

"Do you trust me?" He asked her urgently. He needed to hear her say it. If she didn't, he didn't know if could go through with the plan.

"Yes," she said simply. "I trust you."

Dean looked relieved and cupped her cheek and pressed his mouth softly to her lips. He felt her fingers wind in his shirt and pull him closer. He groaned softly and kissed her deeply before making himself pull away from her.

"Can't blame a girl for wanting one last hot kiss before she dies," she joked nervously. Dean couldn't help but smile as he handed her the glass. She raised it to her lips and drank it quickly before her fear grew again. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Lie to me. Tell me everything is going to be okay."

He looked at her and said with certainty, "You're going to be okay."

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

Twenty minutes later, Dean drove the Impala up to the front door of the Spencer house, blaring the car horn and skidding to a stop. He threw open the drivers door and climbed out. He reached back in and grabbed an unconscious Evan under the shoulders and dragged her across the seat. Flipping her over, he tugged her out and lifted her into a fireman's hold, her head hanging over his shoulder and down his back. Half running, he took her up to the front door, it swung open as he hit the top step.

"Dean!" Kit cried as he crossed the threshold.

"Lay the salt at the door, this bitch isn't getting out once it's come over," he said. "Are they ready?"

"Up here Dean!" Sam shouted from the top of the stairs.

Dean took the stairs two at a time to the top floor while Kit laid the salt and brick dust along the doorway and then followed him up.

"What did you do to her?" Edgar questioned coming out of the bathroom.

"Is she," Victoria trailed off, not able to finish.

"The drugs put her to sleep," he assured her mother.

"What are we doing with all of this stuff Dean?" John asked his son.

"Angie? You got everything ready?" Dean asked her instead.

"Yeah, it's ready," she said and led him to the bathroom.

Dean looked at the large claw footed tub in the corner of the bathroom and found it full of water and ice. He stuck his hand in the water and grimaced at the temperature. "Perfect," he said as he laid Evan down on the floor of the bathroom. "Kit, Angie, get her undressed. We need as much of her skin exposed as possible."

Edgar grabbed Dean's shoulder and swung him around. "Now can you tell us what the hell your plan is?"

"What is with the ice?" Victoria asked him.

"When we were up at the cabin, Stacy tried to drown them. When I pulled her out of the river, the water was so cold she started to turn blue and I was afraid of hypothermia. And that's what we'll do."

"What?" Sam questioned in surprise.

"It tried to drown her?" Victoria whispered in horror, pressing shaking hands to her mouth as she started to cry.

"Yes, it did. But that's the good news, because it made me start thinking. If Evan drowns, and goes into hypothermic shock, we can bring her back."

"I did some studying," Angie interjected. "And some of the major hospitals use medically induced hypothermia with some of their heart patients. There are some risks, but it is possible."

"That's in a hospital!" Victoria said angrily. "They're trained for that kind of thing."

"We can't do something like that!" Edgar protested.

"Dad had some medic training in the Marines," Dean said, looking at his father who was staring back at him in shock.

"Son, that was EVAC training. Mainly stabilizing the wounded and getting them to the hospital," John said. "This is far more involved than.."

"I'm counting on you Dad."

"We should have a doctor here," Edgar said nervously.

"What are we going to tell them Dad?" Kit asked him. "The truth? We do that and they'll have us all arrested or worse."

"But Katarina, this is," he stuttered.

"This is what we have to do," she assured him and then stripped off Evan's jeans.

"If we have to drown her, than why did you put her to sleep?" Victoria asked him.

"So she wouldn't feel the cold," John said suddenly.

"Exactly. We have to lower her temperature before she drowns," he said and then picked her up in his arms once Kit and Angie had stripped Evan down to her underthings.

"I can't believe I'm letting this happen," Victoria said softly and turned into her husband's arms.

Edgar looked at Dean and his daughter and closed his eyes, trying not to give into the tears that stung his eyes. "I can't watch this," he said.

"Wait outside, I'll come and get you," Dean said gruffly. He looked at his father and John nodded, taking Edgar, Victoria and Angie out of the bathroom into the hall.

"Sam, Kit, I need you to get ready down stairs."

"I'm staying," Kit said to him.

"Kit, please. I need you downstairs," he argued.

"Dean, I have to be here," she countered.

"Dude, it's her sister," Sam began.

"Sam, take her," Dean said to his brother and passed Evan's still form over to him. Taking Kit by the arm, Dean took her off to the side of the bathroom. "Kit, I don't want you to see this."

"Dean," she began.

"You've already seen this thing nearly kill her once. Tell me you don't still see it when you close your eyes," he said to her.

"Every time. But," she glanced at her sister and her face crumpled and she took a shaky breath.

"There's a chance this won't work. If it doesn't, I don't want you to be here. If you're going to blame anyone if this goes south, blame me."

Kit wiped the tears from her eyes and then nodded. She sniffled and then looked at Sam. "Let's go get the downstairs ready."

Sam carefully transferred Evan back into Dean's arms and then went over to Kit, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and taking her from the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, leaving Evan and Dean alone.

Pausing in the hallway, Kit looked at Sam. "I'll be down in a second," she said softly and he nodded, going down to the lower level. Seeing John leaning against the wall, Kit folded her arms across her chest and stared at him. John looked back at the girl watching him. "I know you don't like us in your sons' lives," she started.

"Katarina!" Her parents cried in horror, but she ignored them.

"It would be so much easier for you if we weren't. I have to ask you; how do I know that you're going to fight to save my sister?" She inquired tightly, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

John Winchester nodded at her directness and said honestly. "Because if I don't, I'll lose my son forever."

Hearing the tone of his voice, Kit found herself oddly reassured and nodded. Turning away from him, she walked down the stairs and into the living room where Sam stood beside the bags they had brought in from the car. She was determined not to cry and went over to start pulling different guns and weapons from the bag, but when Sam laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, she felt the sting of the tears.

"I hate this Sam," she told him quietly. "I hate the waiting."

"It'll be over soon," he assured her.

"Good. I want this son of a bitch dead."

"That's my girl," Sam laughed.

Dean sat on the edge of the tub and looked down at Evan, holding her hand. Her head lay against the back of the tub, her body shivering but she didn't wake up, the powerful drug keeping her asleep. As her shivers grew stronger, she slipped further down into the icy water.

He wanted to pull her from the water as he saw the blue tinge come to her lips, but he steeled himself against the urge. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes shut when she finally slipped under the water, and sank to the bottom of the deep tub. He took deep, shaky breaths as her fingers curled around his and tightened for a moment in a death spasm. They then went lax and her hand slid from his into the water.

"God, Sweetheart, be stronger than this. Come back to me," he choked out, then reached into the water and took her arm. He felt for her pulse but didn't find anything. "Dad!" he called as he lifted her from the water.

John opened the bathroom door and looked at his son pulling the body from the water. "Get the towels and the blankets," he said over his shoulder and then went over to help his son.

Edgar and Victoria brought in the pile of blankets and towels in, stopping as they saw their daughter. "Oh my god," Victoria cried, tears sliding down her face.

"Don't think about it," Edgar ordered her. He laid a blanket on the floor and Dean and John laid her out on it.

"Start getting her warm," John ordered as he grabbed the heating packs and gave them a sharp smack to start them warming. "Wrap them in the towels, we have to bring her temperature up but slowly. Too quickly and it will shock her system. We need to get her blood going again."

Edgar, Victoria and Angie quickly did as ordered, wrapping the packs in thin towels so the heat of them wouldn't damage her skin.

"Son?"

Dean looked down at Evan's lifeless body lying on the bathroom floor and closed his eyes. He tried to stop the tears stinging his eyes, but they wouldn't. He took a deep breath to try and ease the tightening in his chest and then turned to his father.

"Go save the world from this thing, son," John told him softly.

"We'll save the rest of the world. You save mine," Dean said firmly and then with one last look down at Evan, he turned and walked out of the bathroom. Down on the main floor, he walked into what had been the living room and looked at Sam and Kit waiting.

"Dean?" Sam looked at his brother and shook his head at the stony mask on his face.

"It won't be long now," he intoned slowly and then stiffened when he heard Kit's sudden sob. He wanted to go to her, to assure her that it was going to be okay, but when Sam took her shaking form into his arms and held her tight, Dean knew that she was in good hands.

He grabbed one of the shotguns that they had spread out on the floor and then went to go stand off to the side of the room. He stared down at the ground, trying to mentally prepare himself for what lay ahead and didn't hear the soft footsteps come over to him. When Kit's hand curled around his, he looked up and saw his brother and Kit looking at him.

She reached up and wiped away the tear that started to slide down his cheek. "It'll work, Dean. You know Evan. She's too damn stubborn to stay dead," Kit assured him, and Dean, not one for faith, prayed to the heavens that she was right.

When the scent of sulfur filled the air they tensed. The sound of tearing had them reaching for their weapons.

"Come on you son of a bitch," Kit growled, gripping the butt of her shotgun.

"Poke your head out here," Sam muttered. "So we can shoot it off."

Dean stood ready, the shotgun raised and cocked as he stared at the sliver of a flame that seemed to appear in mid air. He tensed as it grew, slicing through the veil between the demon plane and the human world.

The flames around the tear grew and it began to widen and elongate. Beyond the tear, he could see nothing but black. That is, until the opening was filled with the large grayish body of the demon. Once it had stepped out, large bat-like wings unfolded from around its body. The canine-like jaw of the demon opened and let out a piercing roar. "Oh no, Evan can't attract a puny demon. She's gotta haul out the big boys," he gritted before pulling the trigger and sending a spray of buckshot at the demon.

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

"What's that smell?" Angie said as the scent hit her.

"It's sulfur," John told her. "Demons often leave a sulfuric residue. It's here."

"Oh my god," Victoria breathed and stood up. "Katarina."

"Don't go down there," John ordered.

"She's my daughter," Victoria snapped.

"She and the boys need to focus. You're a liability down there. Let them do what they need to do and you focus on the daughter who needs your help!" John pointed at Evan.

Victoria nodded and knelt back down, grabbing another heating pack, snapped it and placed it against her skin. Edgar rubbed his hands briskly over his daughter's arms and looked up at John. "How do you get used to this?"

"You don't. You concentrate on what needs to be done. You get it done, and later you worry about dealing," he told him simply. "Forget her arms. We need to get her chest warm so we can start the compressions." Angie and Victoria quickly began lying wrapped packs against Evan's chest. They both flinched when they heard the first gunshot. "Okay, move the packs. She should be warm enough to start," John said a few minutes later.

Edgar moved to Evan's head and tipped her head back. John centered his hands on Evan's body and started giving her chest compressions, trying to avoid breaking her ribs. He nodded at Edgar and he forced air into her lungs.

"Keep her covered and warming," John told Angie and Victoria as he went back to work on her. At his nod, Edgar forced more air into her lungs.

"Come on girl,' John ordered her softly.

"Please, Evan," Angie cried softly, kneeling at her sister's head and stroking her cheek softly. "Please come back."

Sam sailed through the air and crashed into the couch, tipping it over and rolling across the floor with a grunt. The demon had taken hold of the barrel of his shotgun and taken swung him around with it despite the round that had been fired. The clawed hand had simply reformed around the barrel.

"Sam! You okay?" Dean shouted from across the room.

"Yeah," he groaned and ducked behind the couch as the demon dragged all of the books off the shelves above him with an invisible force, raining them down upon him. "Shotguns are useless, Dean!"

"Tell me something I don't know!" Dean shouted back, taking one last shot at the demon with his shotgun, more so to piss it off.

"Kit?" Sam called, peering over the back of the couch at her.

Kit grabbed the dagger that was in the sheath at her ankle and snuck around the demon as it advanced on Dean. With its back turned, she started to run, jumped up onto one of the chairs and used it to launch herself at it with a fierce scream. She landed on its broad back between its wings and raised the dagger, and drove it down against the back of its neck, but the blade shattered as it struck the suddenly rocklike skin.

The demon seemed to laugh and reached back, grabbing her arm and throwing her away from it.

Sams heart fell when he saw her fly through the air and land. He winced at the sickening thud.

Kit landed hard on the floor and rolled to the side, but turned and came up on her knees, growling in frustration at it. "Damn it!" she shouted.

"We gotta find its weakness," Dean shouted to them, barely moving out of the way as the chair that he'd been using for cover slid violently away from him and shattered against the wall.

"There's gotta be something in the book," Sam said and Kit looked around. Spying the book laying among the many things that had been scattered around the room, she scrambled to her feet and ran towards it. She had just laid her hands on it when she felt the demon's hand catch at her waist.

"Sam, catch!" She screamed and threw it blindly towards him as her feet left the ground and she felt herself thrown across the room. She heard a grunt of pain as her body collided with Dean and they went sprawling across the floor.

"Look out!" Dean shouted suddenly and pushed Kit away, rolling out of the way as one large cloven foot crashed down where they had been laying.

"Find me some thing Sammy!" Dean shouted and shot at it again with the shotgun, drawing its attention away from Kit.

"I'm looking!" Sam snapped, flipping through the book. He stopped suddenly as he reached a page, and scanned it quickly. "Dean! I think I have something!"

"Come on Evan," Edgar ordered his daughter before he blew air into her lungs again.

"Damn it, this isn't working," John muttered. "We need to shock her heart," he said, looking around him.

"If we overstimulate her heart, she can go into arrhythmia," Angie cautioned him, remembering what she had read.

"It's a risk, yes, but we have to do something, she's not responding," John replied. "A low level shock may be just enough."

"Do it," Edgar decided. They were running out of options.

"Low level shock from what?" Victoria questioned him, also looking around.

"My truck, in the bed there's a weapons cache. There's a TENS unit in there, bring it to me," he said to Victoria urgently and dug in his pocket for the key to the weapons box and tossed it at her.

She nodded and rose to her feet and ran from the bathroom. She started up the hall, but when she heard a crash, she turned and went down the back way to the kitchen. She peered up the hall in time to see Sam crash over the couch. She shuddered and turned to go out the patio doors, taking care not to disturb the salt line across the door.

Running down the stairs she circled the house and slid to a stop at the back of the truck. She pulled down the tailgate and hit the button for the hydraulics to move the box out. When the lid slowly opened, she lifted gaped at the array of weapons.

"Great," she muttered. "Rambo." Digging through the weapons, she finally found the TENS unit. Slamming the lid down, she ran back towards the house. She stopped and peered in the front window in horror as she saw the demon try and stomp on Dean and Kit. She froze for a moment when it turned glowing yellow eyes on her. Its large body took a step forward and Victoria couldn't help the cry of fear that ripped from her throat.

With her feet sliding over the grass, she took off at a run around the back of the house and up the patio to the back stairs and up to the bathroom. Kneeling beside her daughter, she handed John the TENS.

"Did you see Kit?" Angie asked her mother.

"They're getting beaten down there. That thing is huge!"

"They'll beat it," Edgar assured his wife and daughter, with a confidence he wasn't sure he felt at the moment.

"Do I even want to know why you have one of those?" Edgar asked him warily.

"Probably not," John said and pulled the two small electrodes out of the unit. "Make sure she's dry and not laying in water," he cautioned as he turned on the unit and tested it. When he felt the current running against his hand he nodded grimly. "Undo that metal snap on her bra," he ordered and Victoria flicked it open. "We need some gel to make the electrodes stick," he said quickly.

"Will this work?" Angie asked scrambling over to her purse and pulling out a small tube of petroleum jelly based lip balm from within.

"Perfect!" He said, taking it from her. He twisted off the cap and squirted two spots of the jelly on Evan's chest and stuck the electrodes in it. "Everybody clear!" John ordered and they let go of her. He turned the TENS unit up for a moment and then turned it off again. "Check her pulse!"

Edgar pressed his fingers to the side of her neck but shook his head when he didn't feel anything.

"Going again," John said and they moved away from her as he sent another short jolt of electricity through her. Her body moved slightly but then settled. "Starting compressions again," he said and pushed the electrode off of her and started with the compressions. Edgar blew air into her lungs at Johns nod.

"Come on baby," Victoria wept quietly.

"Come on, Sis," Angie said angrily. "You're one of the toughest bitches I know. This is not going to kill you!"

John was about to start another series of compressions when he noticed a fluttering under her eyes.

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

"You think you can stop me?" The demon questioned them, its voice dripping malevolence, looking around him at the three battle weary fighters before it. Its claws curled at its sides. "You can't win. All you've done has been for nothing."

"Sam, say the damn incantation and shut this fucker up before it really pisses me off," Dean growled, staring at the thing before them. Blood dripped down his forehead, but he ignored it. Sam began the spell that he had found in the Demonology book, his voice ringing out strong as he looked up at the demon.

"You think that is actually going to work on me? I am more than that," the demon stared at Sam and he began to tremble, dropping the book and falling to his knees, grabbing his head. He was filled with images. Jess. His mother. His father. Dean. Kit. They were all dying, screaming his name. "You know that they're all going to die. And there is nothing you can do." The voice echoed around him.

"Sam, don't listen to it," Dean and Kit urged him.

"No!" He tried to force the thoughts from his head.

"Demons lie, Sam," Dean shouted at him.

"You should know about that," it said, turning to Dean. "You lie and push everyone away so they don't hurt you. You know you're going to end up alone. You might have had Evan, but you pushed her so far away she's dead. And it's your fault."

"Dean, no. It's not," Kit said to him.

"You're the biggest liar of all," the Demon said finally turning to her. "You tell yourself that you love the hunt, when you know you hate it. You want a normal life. You're glad that she's dead. It means you can come home."

"Lying son of a bitch!" she screamed at it, rising and firing her pistol at it as she walked towards it.

"Kit! Don't!" Sam shouted at her, scrambling to catch her as the demon swept her aside with a negligent brush of its hand. Sam caught her as Dean picked up the book and began reciting where Sam left off.

The demon growled and glared at Dean before it lowered itself onto all fours and roared at him. The vibrations from it shook Dean off his feet, forcing him to drop the book.

"Finish it!" Kit urged Sam.

Sam grabbed up the book and began the spell again, but the demon only laughed at him, the spell having no effect.

"Okay, time for plan B," Dean said, glancing at them and wishing he had one.

Her body hurt and she felt cold and wet. Layers of darkness surrounded her, but she could hear indistinct voices. She forced herself to concentrate on them. Opening her eyes slowly, she saw faces circling around her.

"Evan honey, squeeze my hand," she heard someone order her. She opened her mouth to breath and choked.

"Turn her onto her side," someone said and she frowned, trying to remember the voice. She was gently rolled onto her side and someone turned her head. She coughed violently and water rushed from her lungs. She drew in a shaky, painful breath.

"Squeeze my hand, honey," another voice said urgently.

"Don't crowd her, give her room," an unfamiliar voice said above her.

Evan blinked slowly. Her head felt foggy. She gave the hand that held hers a light squeeze, but felt weak and wasn't sure if her fingers were co-operating.

"Get some more blankets," John said. "And a pillow for her head."

Evan tried to sit up, but was pushed back down. "Lay down. There's still a chance of arrhythmia," Angie told her.

Evan blinked at her and croaked, "Okay, Dr. Quincy." She was wracked by a spasm of coughs that forced even more water from her lungs. "Oh god, I feel terrible." Looking around, she frowned. "Where are Kit and Dean and Sam?"

Angie, Edgar and Victoria looked uneasily at each other. Evan turned and looked at John. "Where are they?"

"They're fighting the demon," he told her and Evan could see the worry in his eyes.

"Tell them that Dean's pendant hurts it," she said weakly.

"Angie, go tell them," Victoria said to her daughter. "Go now!"

"Angie," Evan caught at her sister's arm as she went to stand up. "Tell them to kick its ass for me." she smiled weakly.

"You bet," Angie said and ran from the bathroom.

"Okay, so the spell isn't working. And neither are our weapons. So what the hell do we do now?" Dean asked them as they took cover behind one of the overturned couches. Peering over the top of it, they saw the demon prowling restlessly, beating against the invisible barrier that sealed the window, preventing it from breaking free of the house.

"I don't know," Kit said, breathing heavily, holding a hand over her arm where she was bleeding. She had tried to dodge the demon's claws, but one of them had caught her anyway. "It shattered the blade of my dagger. Its skin is like armor," she told them.

"There's nothing in the book about a weakness," Sam told them.

The three of them jumped when Angie ran down the stairs and slid across the floor to them.

"What the hell are you doing here? Get back upstairs away from here!" Kit admonished her sister, peering over the couch at the demon, whose attention had been piqued by the new arrival.

"It's got a weakness," Angie said. "Evan said that Dean's pendant can hurt it."

"She did? She's okay?" Dean grabbed her shoulder and turned her to stare at her, his heart almost stopping in his chest. "She's okay?"

Angie nodded. "Weak and sore, but she's okay."

Dean couldn't help the relief that flooded through him. He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at his brother who was smiling in relief. He glanced at Kit and saw the tears of happiness running down her cheeks and heard her mumbled prayer of thanks.

"And she told me to tell you to kick this sucker's ass," Angie added.

"That's gonna be the hard part," Kit muttered.

"Maybe not," Dean said. "I think Evan's on to something. Both times this son of a bitch has really dug in its heels, it also left with no explanation." His expression changed as he replayed events in his mind and it dawned on him. "Both times, I was trying to hold her down, and my pendant touched her..."

"It hurt it," Kit said and reached out for it. Holding it in her fingers, she examined it.

"It's a symbol of protection. There was something in the book about that," Sam said and flipped through the book. Finding the page he was looking for, he showed them the diagram.

"No way, that's way too close to that demon," Kit said shaking her head.

"It's the only way," Dean said. He glanced over at the Demon that was starting to flap its large wings, lifting itself up off the floor and crashing against the ceiling, cracking the plaster trying to break through to the second floor to escape the house.

"Okay, Kit, get the salt. Sam, be ready with the spell," he said and took the pendant from around his neck. Looking at it, he slid the silver charm off of the cord and tucked it into his pocket, ignoring the looks that his brother and Kit gave him. He grasped the handles of the duffel bag and dragged it closer. He rooted through it but couldn't find what he was looking for.

"You're going to need this," Kit said, sliding Evan's saber over to him. He looked at her and gave her a weak smile. Pulling the blade from the sheath he wrapped the cord of the pendant around the blade and then dug the bottle of Holy water out of the bag. Dousing the blade, he looked at Kit and Sam.

Grabbing the large can of course sea salt, Kit twisted the cap off and then looked at her sister. "Get out of here."

Angie opened her mouth to say something, but saw the warning look in Kit's eyes and closed it and nodded. She peered over the top of the couch and took off up the stairs.

"Sam?" Kit turned to him. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Go," he told them.

Kit and Dean paused for a moment, their bodies tensing in anticipation. When the demon flew up against the ceiling, they sprinted around the sides of the overturned couch and towards the demon. Kit crouched down, upending the can and spilling salt as she went. Dean followed behind her, giving her cover from it.

When the demon landed and spun towards them, they split, each running around a side of it. Dean slashed at the reaching claws with the saber, hearing it's howl of pain and feeling a surge of satisfaction that he had hurt the thing.

Kit darted around it, keeping clear of its slashing claws and the tips of its wings as they thrashed around. She had just joined the circle around it when the demon reached out towards her. Its wounded claw collided with the invisible barrier of energy created by the salt ring. It howled in pain and beat futily against the barrier, its pain turning to frustration.

"Gotcha, you son of a bitch," she muttered and stumbled backwards.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted and saw his brother rise from behind the couch, the book in his hand. He walked around and towards them, reciting the spell that they had tried earlier, his voice sure as he started to shout at the demon.

"Foolish boy!" it snarled at him. Sam flinched and closed his eyes as the demon tried to push images into his head, but he refused to stop. The words spilled from him, gaining strength each time he said them.

Dean tensed and then ran at the demon, the saber held tightly in his hand. As he grew closer the demon stretched its wings and tried to take off the ground, but the circle that held it trapped was too small for it. Pushing off the ground, Dean hurtled himself towards it breaking through he barrier and colliding with the demon's body. The demon twisted and slashed at Dean with its claws, snarling in hatred and anger at him.

Ignoring the pain running through his body, Dean turned and the demon crashed to the ground beneath him. He stared into the feral yellow eyes of the demon and saw the hatred burning there and for one split second he saw his own anger and hatred shining back at him.

"Do it now, Dean!" Sam cried.

Kit scrambled for the bottle of holy water and slid to her knees beside the circle and splashed it onto the demon's chest. "Dean, now!"

Dean raised the saber above his head and brought it down quickly, piercing the demon's skin where it burned from the holy water. The tip of the saber stuck into the floor, pinning the demon in place, his amulet driven into its body.

Twisting sharply in agony, it threw Dean off. He rolled to the side and stopped, staring at the demon as it twitched. An unearthly wail erupted from it as its body suddenly started to turn almost to stone. It then began to glow a bright yellow before shattering into rubble.

Edgar and Victoria jumped at the sound and looked towards the bathroom door. They turned back when they heard Evan's sigh of relief. "They did it," she said softly, her eyes closing, a smile crossing her face. When she opened her eyes again, she saw John sit back, a look of approval on his face.

Moments later, they heard footsteps on the stairs and Kit burst through the bathroom door. She dropped to her knees, sliding on them the final distance to Evan's side, pulling her into her arms. Closing her arms tightly around her sister, Evan tried not to cry, but the tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

"Don't you ever do this again!" Kit admonished, pulling back and looking at her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes.

"I don't plan on it," she croaked. Looking over Kit's shoulder, she saw Sam and smiled. He came into the room and crouched down beside them.

"Hey you," he said with one of his boyish smiles and Evan couldn't help but smile back at him. He leaned down and kissed the top of her damp head. Although his heart lay with Kit, his friendship with Evan had become very important to him. "Missed you on this one."

"Eh, I figured you guys could handle this one without me," she smiled.

Her smile fell a little when she looked around him at the empty doorway. She felt a sudden stab of fear and looked up at Sam. "Sam?"

Dean stood outside the bathroom for a moment, catching his breath. When he'd heard her voice as he'd come up the stairs, he had been suddenly overwhelmed by the thought that he could have lost her and the sheer panic he'd felt at that was like nothing he'd ever known before.

Even while he and Sam had been looking for their father, he had known that his dad was out there somewhere. He'd felt him. But when Evan had died, he'd felt as though part of him had gone along with her, and it scared him more than he'd wanted to admit.

But as he stepped into the bathroom and saw her looking up at him, the smile growing on her lips, he felt... Content. The ache in his heart subsided. He went over and knelt at her head, pulling her into his arms and not caring what anyone thought, he took her mouth in a hungry, relieved kiss.

"I knew you wanted to kill me," she teased long moments later when she pulled her mouth free of his, starved for air.

"Only most of the time, " he gave her a cocky grin and she shook her head. Tears welled in her eyes and she gave him a soft kiss.

"My cavalry," she smiled. "Next time, you get to be the demon sacrifice," she groused.

Dean grinned and pulled Evan higher into his arms, and despite the chill in her skin, he knew for himself that she was okay. He buried his face against her damp hair and breathed in the scent of her. "God, I can't believe it worked. There was no way that plan should have worked," he whispered into her hair.

"She had something to fight for, Dean," Kit said softly. "Love. There's a saying: "Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage."

Everyone looked at her in stunned silence for a moment. Sam broke the silence. "I didn't know you read Lao Tzu?"

Kit shrugged a little. "World Lit. It was great for picking up all the guys who couldn't get into Art History to pick up girls." Sam had the grace to look sheepish.

"You used a class to pick up guys Sis? I'm impressed," Evan said weakly.

"Oh, Katarina," Victoria said in mock disgust. "I thought I at least raised _you _better than to do something like that."

"She's a bad influence on me Mom, what can I say?" Kit grinned unabashedly.

"Hey, it's how I met Kevin," Angie added. "Speaking of Kevin," she began.

"Oh god, please tell me I missed the wedding?"

"No. We saved you for a fate far worse," Kit told her sister.

With a groan, Evan looked at John and said. "Why did you bring me back?"

_**Epilogue:**_

"Are you sure you won't stay?" Victoria asked John as she and Edgar stood with him on the porch in the pre-dawn light a few days later. "The boys will be upset that you left like this."

"I know, but I've stayed too long already."

"I hope you find what you're looking for, John," Edgar said as he wound his arms around his wife and looked at the other man.

John looked at the two of them and smiled with a touch of sadness. He remembered standing like that with his Mary and it tugged at his heart. "I want to find the thing that killed my wife. Once it's dead, I want to start over with my boys. Get to know them again."

Victoria reached out to him and took his hand, giving him a smile. "And again. Thank you for giving my daughter back to me."

John smiled at her and cleared his throat suddenly. "You've got some good girls there. Stubborn too. Good to know my boys aren't alone."

"Take care of yourself John," Edgar said to him.

"I will. Tell them I'll see them soon," he said gruffly and then tipped the thermos of coffee at them. "I appreciate this."

John Winchester then walked down the walkway and climbed into his truck and started it the engine. Without a backwards look, he pulled away from the curb and drove down the street.

Dean stood at Evan's bedroom window and watched his father's truck disappear down the street. He'd had a feeling that he would be leaving soon, never a man to stay in one place too long. He should be used to it, he told himself. He shouldn't feel the sting of disappointment that he was gone again.

"You okay?" Evan asked him softly, coming up behind him and pressing her lips against his bare shoulder blade.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," he said softly.

"It's okay. I feel like I've slept enough. Besides, we're going to have to change rooms soon before Mom and Dad get up," she added with a grin. In the late hours of the night, she and Sam had traded rooms as they had done for the past few days, always sneaking back in the morning before her parents woke.

"They're already awake," he told her, gesturing out the window.

Peering out of her bedroom window, she saw her parents standing at the front door. She then noticed the absence of John's truck. "He's gone?"

Dean nodded. "Just left."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, moving around to stand beside him, her fingers winding through his. She felt her heart clench when she noticed the sad look that flitted across his face before he pushed it aside. She rose up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

When she pulled back she smiled at him. "I have something for you." Letting go of his hand, she went over to the large armoire, opening one side. Digging through her clothes, she pulled out the small tissue wrapped object and brought it over to him. Taking his hand, she laid the tissue in it.

Dean looked down at it and then at her with a slight frown. "What's this?"

"Look," she smiled.

Pulling apart the tissue he saw the pendant that lay in the palm of his hand. He glanced at her. "This isn't.." he started.

Evan shook her head. "No. The original is in a blessed iron box full of salt. I figure when we leave, we can take a side trip over to the beach and drop it off the end of the pier. I figure there's enough salt in the Pacific Ocean to keep that thing locked away for a damn long time," she told him. "I had this one made and blessed by Father Ketcheson the other day."

"You didn't have to do that," Dean protested.

"Yes I did. You gave up your protection to save not only me, but everyone else that demon might have hurt," she told him.

"Evan, what that demon told you about me. My past," he began, but didn't know what to say. He couldn't lie about it. It was the truth. "I want you to know that what it said about how I feel about you. I," he started, but she smiled and pressed her fingers to his mouth.

"I know. I do too," she said and took the pendant from his hand and looped the cord around his neck, then kissed her fingers lightly and pressed them to his heart.

"My father is leaving today," Sam told Kit as they lay curled in her bed, buried in the thick comforter. His arm tightened around her waist and he held her just that much closer.

"Why?" Kit twined her fingers with Sam's and brought their joined hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles softly.

"He thinks he'll be able to find this demon better on his own," he explained, but she could hear in his voice that he didn't believe it.

"He sounds like a stubborn man," she commiserated with him.

"Besides Dean, one of the most stubborn I know," Sam laughed.

"We'll meet up with him again Sam. And we'll help you find this thing and destroy it," she assured him, moving as close to him as she could.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my vision sooner," he said suddenly. "Maybe if I had, none of this would have happened."

"In your vision, you saw her grave. We stopped that from happening. That's the main thing," Kit assured him. "And it finally got Dean and Evan to work out their issues."

Sam grinned. "Those two," he shook his head. "I don't know about them. Did you hear them arguing yesterday?"

Kit nodded and smiled, "Music to my ears. And speaking of music, now that she's happy again, maybe I won't have to listen to Metallica over and over again."

"Hey, if the two of them get too bad, we'll put them in the Impala and we'll take the Thunderbird," Sam laughed.

"As if I'd let either of you two drive my baby without me," Evan said, as she snuck into the bedroom, hearing the tail end of the conversation.

"Jeesuz Sis, learn to knock!" Kit said, scrambling to make sure she was covered.

"No time. Mom and Dad are up. Get going," she motioned to Sam. "They're in the kitchen, hurry up. If you're in the bathroom when they come upstairs, it's no big deal," Evan cautioned him.

"I know, I know," he said and waved his hand at her and then paused, and gave her a look.

"What?" Evan smirked.

Kit shook her head. "Turn around," she grouched at her sister.

Evan turned and smirked as she caught sight of them in the mirror above Kit's desk. "Close your eyes," Kit said, seeing Evan's smirk. "Close your eyes, you perv."

Evan chuckled when one of Kit's pillows hit the back of her head.

"Dean's right, you girls are crazy," Sam muttered as he pulled on his jeans under the covers.

Evan bit back the comment that sprang to her lips. She grinned as Sam slipped out of the bed, grabbing his shirt as he went before walking quietly to the bathroom and through it.

"He better be worth getting kicked out of a nice warm bed for," Evan commented and then got another pillow thrown at her.

"As if you didn't have your own nice warm," Kit raised an eyebrow, "Bed. To go to."

Evan grinned unabashedly. "Okay, yeah. I did."

"And yes," Kit said as she grabbed her scrunchie and her robe, and headed for the door. "Totally worth it." She winked and headed off to the bathroom to take a shower before having to get ready for Angie's wedding.

Kit shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Beside her Evan adjusted her strapless bra. A grimace crossed their faces as the stared into the mirror in Evan's bedroom. Evan bit her bottom lip as she looked at herself. The wide white bandages that she still had to wear on her arms looked conspicuous and made her feel self-conscious.

Angie stood before them in her wedding dress, tears filling her eyes. "Oh, you two look wonderful."

Evan looked down at herself and then at Kit. The Pepto Pink dresses were still hideous, and they clashed horribly with their hair, but she _was_ their baby sister. Looking at Angie, Evan said, "You owe us big for this, bratling."

"I owe you a lot more," Angie said suddenly, her gaze catching on the arms Evan folded uncomfortably across her stomach. Because of her own stupidity, she had almost lost her sister. Twice. And because of her, Evan would always carry the marks of the demon that had tried to kill her, reminding her of what she had done.

"Ange," Evan began. "You came through in the end. That's what matters." Hugging her sister tightly, she did whisper at her. "Just promise me that you won't do something like that again. Cause then I'd have to kick your ass."

"I won't," Angie said and brushed the tears from her eyes. She turned to Kit. "I didn't think you'd ever forgive me."

"As misguided as your actions were, I can't stay mad at you. You're my sister, and I love you."

"Ange, Kit and I have been talking," Evan said, taking her sisters hand and taking her over to her bed and sat down on the edge, making a face as the crinolines in the dress pouffed out in front of her. "Kit and I are going to be leaving again."

"I know," Angie said sadly. "But now I see why you do what you do."

"Tell you what," Kit said adjusting herself in the puffy dress. "While we're gone. We'll email you guys more often."

"And we'll check in once a week," Evan added.

"Twice," Angie countered.

"Okay, twice," Kit agreed.

"Maybe you'll come out with us some time," Evan grinned.

Angie shook her head. "Um, no way. I'm still trying to figure out how to tell Kevin about you two."

"You're on your own on that one," Evan said with a laugh. Her laugh died when she saw the bandages on her arms again. She curled her arms up against her chest, her fingers catching on the small cross and rose pendant that hung around her neck, fingering it self consciously. "God, I look like a dork."

"Oh that reminds me," Angie said and rose from the bed and went to the vanity and grabbed the box she had laid down when she came in. "I had these made for you," she opened the box and handed Evan a pair of elbow length satin gloves of the same pink as the dresses.

"Oh yay, more pink," Evan said, forcing a smile to her face and taking the gloves to slide them on.

"To cover the bandages," Angie said, and then handed a pair to Kit. "For you too. So Evan doesn't look conspicuous."

"Thanks," Kit said and took the gloves, pulling them on.

"Okay, lets go downstairs. Mom and Dad want to get some pictures."

"You mean we have to appear on film like this?" Kit groused.

"Come on," Angie said and rose from the bed, taking her sisters hands and tugging them to their feet.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in the suit and heard Sam snicker beside him. "Dude, shut up," he growled and adjusted his tie again.

"Stop fidgeting," Sam said to him with a grin.

"Monkey suits," Dean muttered.

"I know how you feel," Edgar said as he adjusted his own tie.

"Really, they aren't that bad," Victoria laughed, re-adjusting Dean's tie. She then stood back and looked at the three of them, beaming proudly. "Now don't you boys look handsome."

"I always thought Sammy looked hot in a suit," Kit said, as she and her sisters came into the living room.

Dean and Sam looked at Kit and Evan and cleared their throats, trying to think of something to say. Dean was the first one to break as he looked over Evan, trying to keep the laugh in. It bubbled out of him in a snort, which he tried to suppress.

"One word," she drawled warningly at him. "Just one word. Ruffles or not, I can still kick your ass in this dress."

"Um," Sam began, struggling not laugh. "Um. You look. Um. Nice?" He lied. Badly.

"I warned you. Senior prom meets Pepto Bismol," Kit said.

"Pepto! Now I get it!" Dean said to Sam, remembering the comment he'd made in the car.

"Oh stop," Angie said to them, swatting at them.

"Alright, we need to head out to the church," Victoria said, glancing at her watch. "You, your father and I are in the limo, Angie," she continued, pointing at the stretch limo sitting outside the house.

"And we're taking our cars," Evan interjected quickly.

"All right, all right. You can take your cars," Edgar said.

Dean took Evan's hand and led her to the front door, followed by Sam and Kit. Walking out the front door, Dean tugged Evan over towards the Impala. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a brief hard kiss. "So, how long before I can get you outta that getup?"

"Soon, I hope," she whispered and then climbed into the car.

Sam smiled and plucked the keys from Kit's hand and opened the door of the Thunderbird for her.

As she brushed by him, she whispered to him, "You know we have time between the ceremony and the reception. You know what I've always wanted to do?" She rose up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, grinning as he turned red.

"Are you kidding me? In your parents'…" he turned brighter and she sent him a wicked look. "You're going to corrupt me."

"You betcha," she grinned and climbed into the car.

The Limo pulled away from the curb and drove up the street. Sam followed behind it sedately in the Thunderbird with Kit. Dean and Evan backed out of the driveway and as they fell into place behind them, Evan reached over and turned up the stereo, AC/DC's Highway to Hell blaring from the speakers.

"You're crazy, you know that," Dean said to her.

"Yup, but I'm still your kinda crazy."

"You got that right sweetheart."


End file.
